Hell
by LizzeXX
Summary: (Sam/OC) Michelle Davidson is a Hunter from a very long line, with quite a few secrets about her and even more unanswered questions. Why is she suddenly so interested in hunting with the Winchesters? What does she have planned? And more importantly, who is she? First in the Davidson Gospels, a trilogy beginning in Season 3.
1. Bad Day at Black Rock

A/N: Hi! So...I've written two Doctor Who stories (The Academic Series and the Lunar Cycle) both of which feature an OC. I've really become obsessed with sticking an OC into my favorite shows and I really liked Supernatural...at first. In my opinion, I feel like it's gone down after Season 5, so this story will only go to the end of Season 5, mainly because the way I have things planned, Season 6 and beyond wouldn't happen. This is going to be the first story in a trilogy, which I've decided to title The Davidson Gospels (a small nod to The Winchester Gospels lol) after my OC Michelle Davidson. Who she is, what she's doing in this story, and more about her will come as the story progesses, I don't want to spoil anything :) We'll learn about her as the brothers do.

~8~ is a scene break

This story will (hopefully) be updated every day! Woo! And each chapter will be based on one episode starting here near the beginning of Season 3.

I hope you like it. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, otherwise I'd have enough money to buy a '67 Chevy Impala of my own.

~8~

Bad Day at Black Rock

Bobby Singer rubbed his forehead as he stared down at the Colt, lying on his desk. It had been a long few days of tinkering with the damn gun, trying in vain to get it to work. Just as he reached out to pick it up, his phone began to ring. Grumbling, he reached over and picked it up and was now in a conversation with none other than Sam Winchester. Apparently him and his brother, the two idjits, had found one of their father's cursed items, a rabbit's foot, and hadn't had the sense to leave well enough alone. Of course they had to poke it with a stick, and pick it up.

"Now look Bobby," Sam said, "We didn't know."

"You _touched_ it?!" he fell back into his chair. He expected this sort of recklessness from Dean, but Sam was supposed to be the smart one! "Damn it Sam!"

"Well, dad never told us about this thing," Sam tried to defend himself, "I mean you knew about his storage place at Black Rock?"

"His lockup? Yeah I knew, hell, I _built_ those curse boxes for him," he sighed, shaking his head, "Listen, you have got a serious problem. That rabbit's foot ain't no dime store notion, it's real hoodoo, Old World stuff," he paused in thought for a moment, "Made by a Baton Rouge conjuror woman about…a hundred years ago."

"It's a hell of a luck charm," Sam chuckled, clearly not grasping the severity of the situation.

"It's _not_ a luck charm!" he shouted, "She made it to _kill_ people Sam!" Honestly, how had these boys survived so long? "See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the Devil. But, you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you're dead inside a week."

"Well…so I won't lose it Bobby," Sam replied simply.

"Everybody loses it!" Bobby yelled, standing from his desk and walking out of his office space.

"Well, then how do we break the curse?"

Bobby paced for a bit, finally coming to a stop at a window, staring at his car parked outside. He sighed, "I don't know if you can."

He was about to say more when something else outside his window caught his eye. Walking up his dusty driveway was a young woman, carrying a duffle bag with another strung across her back and a messenger bag at her side.

"Lemme look through my library and make some calls, just sit tight," he said distractedly, flipping his phone shut without waiting for a reply.

He quickly walked towards his front door, stepping outside just as the woman reached his porch, "About time you showed your face round here," Bobby greeted, smiling at the woman as she climbed the steps, "You're late."

"Sorry," she replied, rolling her eyes at his remark.

"Musta been about, what, five years since I saw you last?" he began, frowning as the girl nodded solemnly, her expression turning serious.

"I need your help Bobby."

He nodded, holding the door open for her to enter, "I think I might need your help too…you know anything about a cursed rabbit's foot?"

~8~

Bobby waited patiently as he listened to the ringing, waiting for Dean to pick up his phone. He'd tried Sam but received no answer.

"Hello?" a voice answered, clearly the unmistakable, cocky voice of the eldest Winchester brother.

"Dean, great news, wasn't easy but I found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick," Bobby said, grinning. He nodded across his desk to the woman sitting at the other end, smiling, with a book open on her lap.

"Bobby that's uh, great, except Sam, uh..." Dean trailed off and Bobby could just tell what Dean was about to day wasn't going to be good, "Sam lost the foot."

"He _what_?!" Bobby half-yelled.

_What?_ the girl mouthed.

Bobby placed his hand over the phone, "They lost the foot!" he hissed.

The girl fell back into the chair, rolling her eyes, throwing her hands up into the air in exasperation.

"Bobby, Bobby, listen," he heard Dean call through the phone, "This, uh, this hot chick stole it from him. I'm serious. In her mid 20s, and she was sharp you know, good enough at the con to play us. And she only gave the guy she hired a name, probably an alias or something. Uh, Luigi or something?" the last part was said away from the phone, Dean was probably asking Sam for confirmation.

"Lugosi!" he heard Sam call from a distance.

"Lugosi," Dean repeated more into the phone.

"Lugosi?" Bobby asked, confused, "Lugos…"

_Bela,_ the girl mouthed.

"Aw crap," Bobby groaned, nodding his head, it was probably her, "It's probably Bela."

"Bela Lugosi?" Dean asked, laughing, "That's cute."

"Bela Talbot's her real name. Crossed paths with her once or twice."

"Well she knew about the rabbit's foot, is she a Hunter?"

"Pretty friggin' far from a Hunter," Bobby smirked as the woman snorted, "But she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country. Last I heard she was in the Middle East someplace."

"I guess she's back," Dean muttered.

"Which means seriously bad luck for you," Bobby shook his head as the girl nodded.

"Great."

"But, if it _is_ Bela…" Bobby began, eyeing the woman.

_What?_ she mouthed again.

"At least I might know some folks who know how to find her," Bobby smirked.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean said, "…again."

"Just look out for your brother, ya idjit," Bobby answered, hanging up. He waited a moment before turning to the woman, "Think you can reach one of your contacts?"

She sighed, pushing herself out of her seat, "I can try."

~8~

Bobby waited for someone to pick up the phone once more as he called Dean back about an hour later.

"Dean," he began as soon as the ringing stopped, "Look, managed to get in touch with someone who knows where Bela lives. So far, she's in Queens."

"You sure?" Dean asked.

"You questioning me boy?" Bobby nearly growled.

"No sir," Dean replied quickly, "Queens it is."

"Damn right it's Queens. My contacts don't lie."

"Alright Bobby, thanks. We owe ya, another one."

"I may be taking you up on that sooner than you think," Bobby replied, glancing at the woman now standing over the Colt, examining it, "Call when you get it back and I'll tell ya the cleansing ritual."

He hung up before Dean could answer, walking over to the woman, "So what's the verdict?"

She let out a low whistle, shaking her head at the gun, "You've got your work cut out for you Bobby…I haven't got a clue."

~8~

"…right," Bobby continued, reading from a book on his desk, the one that had been in the girl's lap, "Bone ash and cayenne pepper too."

"And that's it?" Dean asked.

"That's it," Bobby replied, taking the phone from where he'd pressed it against his ear and shoulder to hold it.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean sighed, "We…"

"Owe me, yeah, about that," Bobby trailed, glancing at the woman sitting across from him, "When you're all done there, why don't you two idjits stop by my house. Got something you might be interested in."

"But Bobby, that's like a 20 hour dr…" Dean was suddenly cut off by what sounded like Sam smacking him, "Ow, what was _that_ for?" he heard Dean say to Sam. The next few words were too quiet to hear but soon enough Dean was back on the line, "Yeah, ok, we'll see you sometime tomorrow or the day after. Got a long drive ahead of us."

Bobby laughed at that, "See you then," he hung up and sat back in his chair, eyeing the woman now looking at her hands and sighed, "You want my help?" he began, "You want me to get them here so you can travel with them boys, you'd best tell me _exactly_ what your vision was Michelle."

The woman nodded, took a breath, and began telling him what she had seen two months ago that had sent her on a wild goose chase for the two men, two brothers, two Hunters.

A/N: Really short chapter, I know, this, unfortunately, won't be the shortest chapter, there's only one shorter, but I wanted to start this series off with a bit of suspense. Who is Michelle? What did she see? Why does she want to travel with the Winchesters? Is she a Hunter? What's her story? What will happen? How will the brothers react? All will be revealed as the story goes on. I hope you stick around, because the brothers find out about Michelle in the very next chapter :)

For a reference, I picture Michelle as looking something like Lynn Collins but with a few difference. There will be more of Michelle's description in the next chapter.


	2. Sin City

Sin City

Two days later Dean and Sam were pulling up to Bobby's house, the Impala dusty from the long miles on the road. Dean was in a slightly less chipper mood than Sam was, having done most of the driving. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother to drive the Impala, it was just…the car was his baby.

They shut the doors and stood staring at Bobby's house for a moment. Usually, if he knew they were coming, which he did, he'd be outside waiting for them or at least aware enough to listen for the Impala. It didn't seem like anyone was home though, not even Bobby's car was there.

Dean huffed before making his way towards the house, followed by his brother. He paused just before the door, "I'm gonna check around back, see if he's not working somewhere out there. Why don't you wait in the house?"

Sam nodded, pulling out the extra key Bobby had given them as Dean walked around back. The minute he stepped into the house he knew something was off. There was an unknown scent wafting to him and it was eerily quiet.

But then a sound reached him.

It sounded like paper being shuffled. He reached into his belt and quietly took the gun from it, cocking it, before continuing on through the house.

The nearer he walked towards the back of the house, the louder the sound became. He soon found himself in the kitchen, with just Bobby's office left to check. He glanced out the back window to see Dean approaching the house, having not found Bobby. Dean stopped when he saw Sam through the window, holding up his gun and signaling for him to be quiet. Dean nodded, making his way towards the house as Sam continued on.

Sam paused just outside the office, listening. The noise was definitely coming from there. He peered around the door to see someone sitting behind Bobby's desk. They were hunched over to the side, clearly trying to pick something off the floor or the bottom of Bobby's bookshelf. Taking his chance, he strode into the room, gun pointed and ready at the person, "Hold it!" he half-shouted. He was only about a foot away from them now.

The person tensed, hearing someone behind them and most likely sensing the gun a few inches from their head.

"Who are you?" he demanded, just waiting for them to make a move.

However, he was ill prepared when they _did_ move.

Faster than he could have imagined, the person before him turned around and grabbed his gun. They twisted his wrist, taking the gun from him as they stood, now pointing his own gun back at him. The situation was so similar to the last time a gun had been shoved into his face, but with one major difference…there wasn't a lucky rabbit's foot to save him this time.

He took a step back, raising his hands in surrender, and finally got a look at his attacker. He was even more shocked to see that a _girl_ had gotten the best of him. She was about an inch or two shorter than him, with chocolate brown hair. It was slightly wavy and went a little below her shoulders. Grey eyes met his, standing out against her pale skin. She didn't have any freckles or any other markings save a small, almost unnoticeable scar next to her left eyebrow. The way she was gripping the gun told him she had plenty of experience handling one.

He watched as, instead of shooting him, she stared at him. First with a fierce determination to protect herself, then confusion, and then almost shock. She opened her mouth to say something, when suddenly Dean burst into the room aiming his own gun at her.

"Drop it!" he shouted, glaring at the woman holding a gun to his brother. Not even the fact that she was wearing nothing but a red tank top and some baggy black stretch pants that showed off every perfect curve and toned muscle could distract him.

Her gaze flickered to glare at Dean and, for one brief moment, Sam was almost angry at his brother for drawing her attention away from himself. But he quickly shook it off, now was _not_ the time for that when a gun was pointed at him.

"Why don't you _both_ drop it?" a voice said from behind Dean.

They all glanced over to see Bobby standing there with a paper bag of groceries in his arm.

"Dean," he intoned, shooting a meaningful glance at Dean, who looked back at the girl, not about to lower his gun till she did, "Michelle," Bobby continued in the same voice.

Michelle glanced at Bobby, then Dean, keeping her eyes locked on him as she slowly lowered the gun, watching warily as he did the same.

Once they were both not about to shoot each other Bobby shook his head, "Give Sam his gun back," he ordered.

"But…" she began only to be cut off.

"Can't have you killin' them," he said, watching as she tossed Sam the gun, "Especially not if you want to hunt with them."

And with that, he walked back towards the kitchen, ignoring the disbelieving and angry "What?!" both Winchester brothers threw at him.

~8~

"The hell do you mean she's hunting with us?" Dean demanded as he and Sam sat before Bobby at the kitchen table, the girl, Michelle, standing behind him at the counter, drinking some tea.

"Just that," he replied, taking a swig of his beer, "You _owe_ me. She's hunting with you."

Dean grumbled to himself, knowing he shouldn't bother arguing with Bobby. Sam just shook his head at his brother's antics and turned to look at Michelle, "You have any experience hunting?" he asked her, "Any training?"

She smirked, "I think I would have died a few years ago if I didn't have any training. So yeah, unconventional training at best, but yeah."

"Unconventional?" Sam tilted his head in an inquisitive manner.

Michelle nodded, looking around the room before focusing on Bobby when he cleared his throat, "You want them to trust you and watch your back when they go hunting you'd best start sharing things with them."

"Everything?" she furrowed her brow, a bit uncomfortable.

"No, not _everything_," Bobby rolled his eyes, "Enough."

She sighed, "My parents were both from a line of Hunters. When they had me, they settled down a bit more. You know, bought a house, got jobs and all that jazz. My mom was an anthropologist specializing in the legends and folklore of different cultures around the world. So, instead of bedtime stories, I got tales of different vicious creatures, what they do, and how to kill them."

Dean whistled. He knew his mother wasn't exactly conventional when it came to bedtime, but he imagined any child would be scarred for life after dealing with that, nightmares especially.

"So what did your dad do?" Sam's voice cut in.

"He was in the military," she shrugged, "He was always travelling, everywhere he went he'd see if there were any supernatural occurrences and take care of them. He worked his way up the ranks, tried out different branches, whenever he needed strings pulled to get something done he'd bring whoever on a hunt and end up with what he needed. So he wanted to make sure I could fight and take care of myself. Strict diet, regiment of exercise every morning, self defense lessons every afternoon, and training with different fire arms on the weekend."

"Ouch," Sam commented, just imagining what sort of drills and training the man must have put his daughter through.

She shrugged again, "Not too bad, I actually had no idea there were demons and things till I was about three and my parents started taking me on hunts. I can fight, hunt, and kill almost any creature you throw at me."

"Oh really?" Dean leaned back into his chair, almost challenging her to prove her statements.

"Really," she tilted her head, smirking, "I can give you some pointers if you like."

"I actually think I might have a pointer _you_ might like," Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively, his gaze flickering to his pants and back.

"Dean!" Sam chastised, thoroughly disgusted.

Michelle just rolled her eyes at him, "You should know I carry a knife at all times and I've used it to castrate worse things than you."

Dean cleared his throat, sitting forward in his chair. He squirmed a bit, crossing his legs protectively. He turned to look at Bobby, "She's in."

~8~

Michelle stood in the living room, watching through the window as Bobby and Dean worked on the Colt in the backyard, as Sam typed away on his laptop. She turned around and went to sit next to him on the couch, "So what are you looking at?"

He glanced at her, smiling, "Just looking at a possible hunt in Ohio. You know, something to test the waters, see how you do, if you can live up to Dean's standards."

"What if you don't live up to _my_ standards?" she asked, seeming almost serious before she started laughing.

He laughed as well, "So, you said before that your parents settled down?"

She nodded, "They didn't want to raise me around demons or in constant fear that one of them would be killed."

"So…why did they start hunting again?" at her confused look he elaborated, "You said you didn't know there were demons till your parents took you hunting. If they wanted a normal life, why start hunting again?"

She frowned, glancing outside at Bobby, "They only had about a few months of 'normalcy,' whatever that is, before demons began to find them. My mom told me once that, when I was a baby, a demon tried to do something to me…" she felt Sam stiffen next to her but continued on, "She said that she'd put me to bed when I just started screaming. She ran up to see someone in my room, backing away from my crib, covering their ears. I guess I had quite a set of lungs on me, my cries actually drove the demon away. When my mom went to check on me she saw blood um…"

"Around your mouth?" he supplied, seeing her hesitant to share that, "The yellow-eyed demon, wasn't it?" she nodded, "He was trying to feed you his blood," she looked at him, "He um, he did the same to me."

She nodded, understanding, not pressing him about it which he was thankful for, "She and my dad did a bunch of rituals and things to see if I had been affected by the demon blood."

"Were you?" Sam asked quietly, swallowing hard.

"Yes…and no," she sighed, leaning back into the couch, "My body reacted to the demon blood in a negative manner, hence the screaming. I did grow into a power, but, from the tests my parents did, not a demonic one."

"What…what power do you have?"

"I can purify people, kind of like exorcising them, cast out the demons, remove their influences, but it's more geared towards demon blood."

"How so?"

"If someone's been infected with demon blood, I can purify their body so the blood disappears."

"Really?" he asked, getting excited.

She nodded solemnly, already knowing where his thoughts were going, "But it's a bit more complicated than that. It depends on a lot of things, how much blood has been consumed, how long it's been in the blood stream. If there's too much or been there too long, I can't do anything without potentially killing myself or the person infected."

"How long do you have before you can't help them?"

"The longest a person had demon blood in them that I was able to safely help with was five years," Sam physically deflated, "I'm sorry Sam."

He sighed, shaking his head, "It's ok. Powers like ours always come with some sort of price or limit," after a few moments of silence he spoke again, "So…what happened after the demon disappeared?"

"My parents tore down the house, rebuilt it from the ground up to be demon proof. Symbols in each and every wooden plank, holy water mixed into the cement, iron used for all metal work, and you wouldn't believe how long it took them to find a paint that worked well with salt. Hell, my mom even managed a garden of plants that ward off demons."

Sam whistled at that, "Wow."

She nodded, "Never saw another demon again till we went on hunts."

"Why'd they do that?"

"It isn't normal not to," she answered simply, "The supernatural _is_ a part of the natural world, the only difference is that not everyone knows about it. We're privileged to know it's real and be exposed to it. Ever since the demon, my parents wanted to make sure that I could take care of myself and maybe even my kids in the future. You can't do that if you never get experience."

"That's…a different way to look at it," Sam commented.

Indeed it was. He'd spent most of his life thinking that it _wasn't_ normal what his family did, hunting demons. But it _was_ true that demons had been around since before humans probably existed. They were there, always there, just because some didn't see them or know about them didn't mean they weren't real.

"I know," she rolled her eyes, "Most Hunters live everyday wishing to get out of it. I just…if I'm not helping to stop demons, who will? If I can, why not? I've been hunting on my own for the last five years trying to help."

"Yeah, but don't you want to settle down? Start a family? Get a job? Go to college?"

"Who said I didn't go to college?" she glanced at him.

"But…you just said…"

"That I was hunting, yeah, I went to school too," she sighed, "I got my GED when I was 16 then I took part in an online course and now," she leaned back, crossing her arms behind her and resting her feet on the coffee table, "I have a Master's in Folklore and Mythology."

"No way!" his eyes widened, he'd dropped out of law school to hunt. It hadn't ever crossed his mind to try online courses.

She nodded, "Yup, spent a couple hours a day working on course work, hunted the rest of the time. It was actually good that I hunted while I worked on my papers, a lot of them featured monsters I was hunting from different cultures. I had an awesome thesis, talking about the different ways the legends were warped through the years. Good times."

"Huh, no kidding," he murmured.

She smiled, "And if I do settle down, who's to say I can't take my kids on breaks to hunt? Give them a taste of the life and let _them_ decide what they want to do? With the way the life of a Hunter works, the kids would probably find their way into hunting anyway," she laughed at his thoughtful expression and glanced at the laptop, "So what have you got?"

"Oh, uh…" Sam scanned his computer. He'd completely forgotten about what he was researching as Michelle's words echoed through his head, "Uh…"

"Ohio?" she tried jogging his memory.

"Right, um, some random deaths and murders that came out of nowhere," Sam stood up, reaching out a hand to help Michelle up and headed outside to tell Dean what he'd found.

~8~

"So what's her story?" Dean asked Bobby.

"Just what she told you, parents were Hunters, she's a Hunter, she's been hunting."

"So why the sudden need to join up with us?"

"More like _my_ sudden need," Bobby commented, "Single woman, working on hunts alone, thought she could use some companionship. I've known her since she was just a kid Dean, like you and Sam. And you boys were the only Hunters I trust to take care of her. Probably the only ones she even feels comfortable around."

"Why's that?"

"You were the only kids she talked to as a child."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean stood up, "What do you mean _we_ were the only ones she talked to? Far as I know, we've never met her."

Bobby laughed, "You actually have, years ago though."

"When was this?"

"I'd wager you were about thirteen, Sam about nine, Michelle was eight. Her parents found a huge infestation of Willow the Wisps a few miles away from their house, called me to see if I could help. I was doing some hunts with your dad at the time, the two of you too. We stopped by and met her parents, met Michelle too."

"We did?"

"You probably don't remember it all that much, we only stayed there a day or two, but I've never seen Sam take to someone as fast as he did her."

"Really?"

Bobby nodded, "As soon as he set eyes on that girl…you'd have thought Christmas came early or something. He didn't let that girl out of his sight the entire time."

"Huh…"

"Your dad told you to watch over the two of them when he went out with the rest of us to take out the Wisps," Bobby shook his head and laughed, "We came back to find you watching some sort of horror movie on their TV with Sam and Michelle all cuddled up on the couch asleep. We tried to get Sam to go to the motel, but damn that kid wouldn't let go of her. He actually let her call him Sammy now that I think about it."

Dean nodded his head in thought, he _did_ vaguely recall a little girl on one of his dad's hunts...barely. He looked up when he heard the door to the house open, "Hey," Dean called, seeing them walking out, "What's up?"

"Might have found some omens in Ohio," Sam responded, stopping next to them.

Michelle nodded, "Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop, the classics."

"Well, that's thrilling," Dean grumbled.

"Plus, some guy blows his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out," Sam added.

"Might be demonic omens," Michelle added.

"Or just a suicide and a psycho scrap booker," Dean muttered.

"But it's our best lead since Lincoln," Sam argued.

Dean sighed, "Where in Ohio?"

"Elizabethville," Michelle answered when Sam hesitated. It seemed as though he was still a bit stunned from their discussion, "It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt."

"There's got to be a demon or two in South Beach," Dean grinned.

"Sorry," Michelle smirked, holding back a laugh, "Maybe next time," she then glanced over at Bobby, "How's it going Bobby?"

"Slow," he ground out.

"I tell you," Dean sighed, "It's a little sad seeing the Colt like that."

"The only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick."

"So what makes it tick?" Sam joked, Bobby did _not_ look amused.

"So, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio…" Dean trailed before glancing at Bobby, "You think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?"

Bobby glared at him, "Well, it won't kill _demons_ by then, but I can promise you it'll kill _you_."

Dean smiled, "Alright, come on, we're wasting the daylight!" he jogged off towards the front of the house where his beloved Impala was parked, "See you Bobby!"

"Michelle!" Bobby called as she too turned to retrieve her few bags from the house. She came back over to him, waiting for him to speak as he watched Dean and Sam disappear around his house, "What did you say to that boy?"

Michelle sighed, she should have known he'd notice something off with Sam, "I told him about my own past with Azazel."

"And?"

She shrugged, "I told him I didn't react to the blood like the rest of the 'special children,' I guess he just figured that's why I'm alive now, why I wasn't a part of the whole battle-to-the-death thing."

Bobby nodded, "You tell him about…"

"About my powers?" she finished, "I told him about the purifying, yeah."

Bobby sighed, when the sound of the Impala's horn reached them, "You run into anything…_anything_…you call me."

She nodded, slightly stunned when Bobby pulled her into a brief hug.

~8~

The next day would find Sam, Dean, and Michelle dressed in suits, parading around as members of the Insurance Company in order to speak with the local priest.

"There's not much left for the insurance company," Father Gil shook his head, "It was a suicide. I saw it myself."

Dean, who had been in the process of surreptitiously trying to glance at Michelle's bust even with her suit on, quickly turned his attention to the priest, "Well, this shouldn't take long then."

Father Gil motioned to the doorway, "That's where Andy did it. It's the first time I'd seen him in _weeks_. He used to come every Sunday."

"When did he stop?" Sam asked.

Father Gil let out a breath in thought, "Probably about two months ago, right around the time everything else started to change."

"Change how?" Michelle tilted her head to the side, her hair held behind her in a tight bun, eyeing the man with a slightly hard look in her eyes, her jaw tensing at something.

"Let's just say this used to be a town you could be _proud_ of. People..._cared_ about each other. Andy sang in the choir, and then one day, he just...wasn't Andy anymore. It was like he was..."

"Possessed?" Sam supplied.

"You could say that. Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business. Yes, like a switch had flipped."

"Father, did you know the man who killed those people in the hobby shop?" Michelle continued, tense, trying to get some sort of clue out of the man, another name, something.

"Sure," he nodded, "Tony Perkins. Good man."

"Would you say that his personality suddenly changed one day, too?" Sam asked, elbowing Dean who was now trying to get a peek at Michelle's legs sticking out of her pencil skirt.

"I never thought about it that way, but...yes," he nodded again, "About the same time as Andy…about two months ago."

Dean nodded his head, subtly rubbing his ribs, "Well, thank you, Father. Appreciate your time," he walked over towards the doors of the church, holding it open for Michelle and even Sam.

Sam sighed, "Two months ago, we open up the Devil's Gate, and all of a sudden this town turns into Margaritaville? It's no coincidence."

~8~

Sam held the door to the hotel room open, allowing Michelle to enter, she smiled her thanks before her eyes moved to look at the mirrors on the ceiling. She just rolled her eyes, especially when she heard Dean chuckling at them.

A door opened down the hall, causing Dean to pause from entering the room completely. He glanced down, a smile breaking out onto his face, "Richie. I don't believe it!" he walked out of the room, leaving Sam and Michelle alone as he greeted an old friend.

Michelle turned to look at Sam, "Is he always like this?"

"Aloof? Carefree? Happy?" Sam tried.

"A dick."

"Oh…uh...well..."

"I saw him trying to check me out Sammy," she commented, taking her black pinstripe jacket off, already making plans to buy a pair of pants to go with her outfit instead of suffering through her skirt and Dean.

Sam laughed, not even realizing she'd called him by his dreaded nickname, "Then yes, he is."

"Come on in," they heard Dean say as he led someone into the room, "This is my brother, Sam. Sam, this is Richie."

The man nodded, "Hey."

"And this is Michelle," Dean paused before smirking, "My step-sister."

The grin that formed on Richie's face and the way he was now openly checking her out clued them into the fact that Dean had probably just made some sort of lewd comment or inside joke.

"How you doing?" Richie raised an eyebrow at her.

She gave a sort of scoffing smile, before grabbing a pile of clothes and walking into the bathroom, being sure to lock the door behind her.

Richie let out a low whistle.

"Uh…how do you two know each other?" Sam asked, if only for something to get the man to stop staring at the bathroom door like a starved wolf.

"You were in school," Dean shrugged.

"It was that succubus, in Granasi right?" Richie recalled.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oh, man. You should have seen the rack on this broad. Freakin' tragedy when I had to gank her."

"Whoa, whoa. Wait. _Who_ killed her?" Sam just shook his head as his brother and Richie began to get into it, "If I remember, your ass was toast until _I _showed up."

"Oh, I forgot what a comedian this guy was," Richie grinned as Sam.

"Richie, Richie, I told you then and I'll tell you again, you're _not_ cut out for this job. You're gonna get yourself killed."

Richie was about to open his mouth with what Sam was sure was some sort of attempt at a witty retort, when his phone rang, "Talk to me," he answered before focusing on Dean, "FYI Winchester, words hurt," then went back to the caller, "No, it's not a good time, baby. Later."

"You find anything in this town anyway?" Dean turned to Richie from his silent conversation with Sam, Sam constantly mouthing for him to ask.

"Uh, no, I got nothing," Richie said, but paused, "Oh, wait a minute. You mean as in demons and whatnot?"

"No, he meant communicable diseases," Michelle responded sarcastically, walking out of the bathroom. All three men stared at her for a moment, "What?"

She was wearing a green spaghetti strap shirt with dark blue jeans. She rolled her eyes at them, grabbing a light brown leather jacket to put over her, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Uh, yeah," Sam commented, shaking his head and looking away, back at Richie, "Demons."

"No, I got nothing," Richie answered, still openly ogling Michelle. She had no idea what he was looking at, it wasn't like she had huge knockers or anything, she was _barely_ a B.

"Typical. What about your _sister_ back there?" Dean finally turned away, hoping to draw his friend's attention as well.

It worked.

"Honestly, she definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?" he laughed, but it died down at Dean's serious expression, "Right. Seriously," he cleared his throat, "Church guy, hobby shop guy, they were lunch meat by the time I got there. Maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, that's where we are, too. Let's just say the demons are possessing people in this town you know, raising hell."

"But why would a demon blow his brains out?" Dean asked out loud.

"For fun?" Michelle guessed, "He wrecks one body, moves to another."

"Like taking a stolen car for a joyride," Richie nodded and grinned.

"Anybody else left in town that fits the profile, nice guy turned douche…that's still breathing?" Dean returned to the topic at hand.

"There's Trotter."

"Who's that?" Sam asked, powering up his laptop.

"He used to be head of the Rotary Club then he turned bastard all of a sudden, brought in the gambling, the hookers," Richie laughed, "He practically owns this whole town."

"Know where we could find him?" Michelle glanced at him as she began putting on some tennis shoes.

"Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours," Richie confirmed.

~8~

"And I thought Mardi Gras was bad," Michelle commented as they pulled up in the Impala. There were scores of people just wandering around, drinking, fighting, gambling, and hanging onto scantily clad women.

"When were you at Mardi Gras?" Sam looked at her over his shoulder.

"About a year ago," she answered, eyeing the people out the back window, "You have no idea how much hoodoo, voodoo, and any other kind of doo happens during that party."

Dean nodded, "I thought you said this was some boarded-up factory town."

"It is," Sam confirmed, "Or, at least, it's _supposed _to be."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Dean grinned at them, before eyeing some of the women, "Let's do some research."

They walked into the bar, Dean immediately catching sight of Richie and leading them over to him, much to Michelle's chagrin, "Oh, Richie. Look at you."

"Hey," Richie nodded at them, winking at Michelle.

Dean glanced at the man's outfit, "Bringing satin back?"

"Oh, you like this? Try Thai silk, Canal Street," Richie inspected his duds, "You have to pay $300 for threads like these, easy. Cost to me, fuggedaboutit."

"How much is 'fuggedaboutit?'" Sam asked.

"Ah, forget about it," something caught his eye and he nodded towards the other side of the bar, "That's Trotter over there. He sits there all night. Can't touch him."

"So, what do we do now?" Michelle turned to Dean, completely ignoring Richie.

"I don't know about you guys," he grinned, "But I'm gonna do a little investigating with that bartender."

"Her?" Michelle asked, staring at the red haired waitress.

Sam glanced at Michelle at the tone in her voice, only to see her eying the woman with an odd expression. It was like a mix of confusion, disgust, tension, and anger. He'd only ever seen her give it once before, to the priest they had spoken to this morning. But before he could comment on it, it was gone.

"Easy," Richie's voice cut in, "Me and Casey, we got a little somethin' somethin' lined up for later."

"Yeah, right," Dean scoffed.

"Stings, don't it?" Richie laughed before getting up, "Alright. I got to hit the head. Release the hostages. Be back in a few."

Dean watched him walk off towards the bartender, "No way he gets a girl like that. I mean, look at her. You could fit that ass on a nickel."

"You think so?" a voice said behind them, they turned to see Father Gil standing there.

"Oh," Dean at least had the decency to look mildly shamed, "Sorry padre."

"Knew you would find your way here," Gil sighed, "They all do."

"No offense, but what are _you _doing here?" Michelle tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Like it or not, you go where your flock is," Gil responded, a bit offended at the accusation in her eyes.

The bartender, Casey, came over to them pouring a drink for the priest, "Plus, the clergy drinks for free."

"True," Gil nodded, smiling warmly at the woman, "And a certain bartender owes me a confession."

"Not in this lifetime Father," Casey laughed.

"I better see your butt on Sunday," he told her, glancing at Dean, "Nickel or no nickel."

Casey smiled, looking at the new customers, "What can I get you lot?"

"What's your specialty?" Dean asked, leaning on the bar, grinning at her.

Casey leaned in as well, smirking, "I make a mean hurricane."

"I guess we'll see about that," Dean smirked.

Sam leaned over his brother's shoulder, "You drink hurricanes?"

Dean eyed Casey as she mixed his drink, "I do now."

Michelle rolled her eyes and looked at the people populating the bar. Sam found himself watching her as she seemed to examine every person that entered, left, or walked by, and seemed to grow more confused with each person for some reason.

"Sam!" she hissed and he thought he'd been caught staring, when he noticed Michelle wasn't even looking at him, she had her gaze fixed on the pool table. There were two men talking, nothing out of the ordinary, but as he looked closer he could see that one of them had a gun on him.

"Hey!" he nudged Dean, nodding over to the men.

Just as the gunman pulled out his gun, Dean tackled him to the ground, a bit too late for him to stop the shot at the other man, but fast enough to stop him from shooting everyone else.

Sam ran up, uncapping a bottle of water.

"He's not a demon!" Michelle hissed at him, but he just ignored her, pouring it on the man. Like she had predicted, the man didn't react to the water, clearly he was not a demon.

"What are you doing?" the man shouted, struggling, "He slept with my wife. That bastard slept with my wife!"

Sam looked at the customers, "Somebody call 911!"

It wasn't even a half hour later that the man, Reggie, was being cuffed and taken away by the police.

Sam fidgeted, "Too many cops here. I say we roll."

Michelle nodded.

"Just be cool," Dean instructed, "Poor jerk. Only thing possessing him was a sixer of Pabst."

"So, what's the deal then?" Sam asked, getting frustrated, "People in this town getting possessed or not?"

"I don't know," Dean sighed, "Maybe it is just what it is, town full of scumbags."

"Yeah," Michelle eyed the bar where a new bartender was tending to other patrons and the priest, "Maybe."

"You boys ready for your mug shots?" a police officer asked, walking up to them. Sam and Dean exchanged nervous glances as Michelle pressed her face into her palm and shook her head. They really were idiots, reacting like that, "The photographer's gonna be here in a few and take your picture for the local paper."

"Be an honor, officer," Dean sighed, relieved, "What a thrill."

"Yep, time to go," Michelle got off her chair.

"Wait a second," Dean looked around, "Wait a second."

"What?" Sam asked.

"Where's Richie?" Dean looked around again.

~8~

Dean and Sam were sitting at a table in the bar, Dean taking a huge bite into his burger with Sam watching on, disgusted.

Michelle walked over, placing two beers before them and sliding in next to Sam with a bottle of water for herself.

"You _do_ realize there's red meat within striking distance, right?" she eyed him devouring the burger, just managing to keep her gag reflex in check.

"How many times I got to tell Richie, he's gonna get himself in trouble?" Dean asked himself.

"Dean, you're assuming he's missing," Sam reassured, "I mean, maybe he just bailed."

Dean looked up at him, swallowing his last bite, "He's a moron. He's a sweet moron, but he's _not_ a coward. He wouldn't just bail. I gotta go find him."

Sam sighed, "Alright. Meanwhile I think I'm gonna trail this Trotter guy."

"Yeah?"

"I don't know…something about the way he looked at me last night," Sam sighed, "Maybe there _is_ something going on here."

Michelle nodded, "I'm going to check out some of the other townies, talk to some of Reggie and John's friends…maybe look into Reggie's wife."

The boys nodded and they all went their separate ways.

~8~

Michelle entered Trotter's bar, walking right up to the bar when she saw Casey working.

"What can I get ya?" Casey asked, glancing at the woman.

"I don't drink," Michelle replied, staring at her.

Casey smirked and leaned forward, "I wasn't _just_ talking about _alcohol_."

Michelle glared at her, placing a bottle full of now-holy water on the bar. Casey leaned back, "I know what you've been getting everyone in this town."

"I don't know what…"

"Christo," she cut in, smirking as Casey inadvertently flinched, her eyes turning black for a moment.

"Fine, what do you want?" Casey glared, knowing her cover had been blown.

"I want you to leave this town alone. You and your partner leave these people in peace and _never_ come back."

"Or what?" Casey retorted, seeing Dean heading towards the bar, "You tell your friends I'm a demon? Fat chance they'd believe you."

"You'd be shocked. You leave by tonight or I will make sure you both return to Hell…probably not in one piece."

And with that, Michelle stood up and stormed out of the bar, ignoring Dean in the process. She walked down the block, pausing around the corner to pull out her cell phone.

"Hey, Bobby," she said when the ringing stopped, "I need your opinion on something."

~8~

"So how'd it go with Trotter?" Michelle asked as Sam walked back into the bar later on.

"Uh…fine," Sam mumbled, not looking at her.

"Let me guess," she began, smirking, "He wasn't a demon and you made a complete idiot out of yourself by spraying him with holy water?"

"Uh…yeah," Sam blushed a bit.

"Happens to everyone. I mean, never to _me_…but I've heard stories," she laughed when Sam groaned and dropped his head onto the table.

"You look kind of _tense_," a voice said from behind them. They looked up to see a scantily clad woman leering at Sam, "You know, I know a surefire way to _relax_."

"Maybe later," Sam mumbled, glancing at Michelle before getting up, "Excuse me."

He walked over to the bar, Michelle at his side, "What can I get for you?" the barman asked.

Michelle frowned at the change in bartender before looking around, Dean wasn't there...

Crap.

"Um, you remember the guy we were with last night? We sat right here," Sam pointed.

"The big hero who jumped on Reggie?" the barman asked.

"Yeah, yeah, the big hero, right," Sam cleared his throat, "Um, have you seen him around at all today?"

"Maybe," the barman answered, glancing at Michelle, "Depends."

Sam glanced at Michelle as well, swallowing hard, "Depends on what?"

The barman raised an eyebrow at Michelle, smirking lecherously at her.

Sam was an inch away from punching the guy, when Michelle leaned forward across the bar, "You want something?" she smiled at him, looking up at him through her eyelashes. The man grinned and leaned forward as well. Michelle reached out and grabbed the front of the man's shirt, pulling him halfway onto the bar, "My dad's in the military, you really want to go down the road of a sexual harassment charge?"

The barman swallowed thickly, "He left with Casey about an hour ago."

"Any idea where they went?" Sam asked, trying hard not to laugh at the man being threatened by a woman.

"Her place...for Bible study."

"You got an address?"

"What's wrong with you?" the barman glanced at Sam, "You think I'm gonna give you a coworker's address just so you can go over there and get your freaky peeping-tom rocks…"

Michelle twisted her grip and pulled him a little bit more.

"Corner of Piermont and Clinton," he answered. Michelle shoved him away, behind the bar, "Have fun!" he called after them, straightening his shirt.

As soon as they were outside Sam really did start laughing, "Wow."

Michelle glanced at him, a smile on her face, "What? You think my dad taught me how to handle demons but not humans?"

Sam just shook his head.

~8~

Sam and Michelle cautiously entered Casey's house, guns and holy water out, ready for anything to jump out at them and attack.

"Dean?" Sam called as they stepped in, waiting for a reply for only a moment before proceeding to check out the place.

"Sam!" Michelle called from the bedroom, Sam walked over to see her kneeling above a yellow stain in the carpet, "Sulfur."

They quickly made their way out of the house and back to the bar, luckily for them the same barman from before was still there.

"Bobby, it's Sam," Sam left a message for Bobby, "We got a big problem. We found some sulfur, and now I can't find Dean. Call me as soon as you get this," he flipped his phone closed and walked over to the barman, "Hey, excuse me. They weren't there."

"I guess you got to catch your jollies another night," he smirked, putting a cup down and starting to fill it, "Here, why don't you have a drink and relax?"

"I don't want to relax. What is it _with_ the people in this town?"

"I don't drink," Michelle added.

The barman shrugged, "Suit yourself."

Michelle noted that he made sure to stand far enough behind the bar that couldn't reach him. Smart man.

Sam sighed and looked around, only to see Father Gil approaching the bar. He turned and made his way over to him.

"Father?" Sam asked, walking up to him.

"Sam, don't," Michelle whispered, but he ignored her.

"Yes?" Father Gil turned to them.

"Um...can we talk to you for a sec?" Sam continued, Gil nodded, "So, the bartender the other night, Casey, you know her pretty well?"

Gil smiled, "Since she was in pigtails."

"Well, um, she and my brother, they, uh...they...left tonight," Sam said, before adding, "Together."

Gil frowned, "Well, not that I approve, but they _are_ consenting adults."

"Right…" Michelle drawled.

"I'm sorry, you said _brother_? I thought you were insurance investigators."

"It's a family business," Michelle interrupted whatever half-assed excuse Sam was about to give.

"Oh, are you their sister?"

"Friend of the family."

"Anyway," Sam cut in, "We went to Casey's apartment and they weren't there. I just have this feeling that they…that they might be in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" Gil grew serious.

"Just trouble," Michelle said impatiently.

Sam shot her a look, "Please, Father, we need your help. Is there anything you could tell us about Casey, anyplace she'd go, maybe?"

"Yes, there is a place," Gil nodded, standing, "Let me get my jacket."

"No, we can do this by ourselves," Michelle insisted.

"Now see here, if Casey's really in trouble, then there's nothing to talk about," Gil chastised her. He quickly turned and swung on his coat, "Shall we go?"

They headed outside to the Impala, piled in, and headed off in the direction the priest was giving.

After a few moments of silence, Gil spoke, "So, insurance investigating…you enjoy the work?"

Sam shrugged, "Yeah. I..." he glanced back at Michelle, smiling softly, "I like being able to help people."

She smiled back at him, "Me too."

"Ever think about doing anything else?" Gil continued.

"Like what?" Sam asked.

Gil shrugged, "Mmm, anything. You seem like a pretty smart kid. Somehow I see you out in front of the pack. You could do some great things."

Michelle narrowed her eyes, seeing what he was doing, "And _you_?" she shot back.

Gil laughed, "At my age, there's not enough time to do anything else."

Gil opened his mouth to say something again, but before he could Michelle leaned over from the backseat and turned on the radio. The rest of the ride was spent in silence. It was only a few more blocks before they were pulling into Casey's parents' house.

Sam quickly got out of the car and jogged up to the house, "Dean!" he called, hoping to hear something as he approached the front door, "Dean!" he called again before turning to Gil, "Check that way," he instructed, grabbing Michelle's hand and pulling her with him.

"Sam!" a voice called out to them.

"Dean?"

"Sammy down here!" Dean yelled from the side of the house, near the bottom, "The basement caved in!"

"Dean, hey, hold on, ok? We're coming."

"Who's we?"

"Me and Michelle. We're also here with the Father."

"Sammy, be careful!" Dean warned.

"Sam!" Michelle called.

Sam turned around to see Father Gil standing there, eyes black, clearly a demon. Suddenly there was a shot and Sam could see Bobby standing there. Gil turned around and flung the man aside using his powers. He turned around to face the two of them and sent Sam flying into the Impala's windscreen along with Michelle who landed on the ground.

Gil turned to the cave-in and disappeared within it as Sam helped Michelle up and they made their way towards Bobby, "Bobby!" Michelle exclaimed, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Bobby grumbled, sitting up, shoving the Colt into Sam's hand.

"How did you know where we…" he began.

"Go!" he cut Sam off, pushing him towards the house.

Sam jumped and began running towards the house, Michelle kneeling at Bobby's side, helping him up. As he got closer he could see that Gil had smashed through most of the cave-in, leaving a cleared path for him. He just reached the entrance to the basement when he heard Casey speaking. He couldn't make it out, but it didn't matter. He burst into the room and, seeing his brother being strangled by the priest, aimed the Colt and fired, killing him. He turned the gun on Casey, ignoring Dean's cries to wait, and shot her as well. Their bodies fell to the ground on a Devil's Trap, the demons now destroyed.

Sam waited only a moment before rushing to Dean's side, helping him up, "You ok?"

Dean nodded, breathing deep from having nearly been strangled, "You?"

Sam nodded as well, "Almost wasn't, Bobby stopped him," he nodded over towards Gil.

"Bobby's here?" Dean asked as he and Sam stumbled out of the rubble.

Sam nodded, "I called him a while ago, but he didn't pick up…I don't know how he knew we'd be here."

"Well, let's go ask," Dean shook his head as he climbed outside.

Standing by the Impala were Bobby and Michelle, Bobby now standing and not looking too in pain for being flung around by a demon.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted, walking up to them.

"Dean," he nodded, "Good to see you both alive."

"So uh…how'd you know we were here?" Sam asked.

"Got a call here from Michelle a while ago," he replied, nodding at the girl, "Told me you both were about to walk into a trap and needed my help."

"How'd you know that?" Dean asked her suspiciously.

Bobby leaned over to her, "Might be a good time to tell them…might be useful later on."

"Tell us what?" Sam looked between the two.

She sighed, "I can see demons."

"Yeah, us too," Dean remarked, "Comes with the job."

"No dumbass," she glared at him, "I can see when demons are _possessing_ people."

"Really?" Sam's eyes widened, that explained her reactions to Gil and Casey.

"It's like I can see their human body, but their demonic face," she held up her hand at Dean's oncoming interruption, "Their _true_ face. Not just some black eyes here or there, but what they _actually_ look like. Demons."

Dean nodded, "And you didn't feel the need to tell us this _before_ we walked off with a couple of them?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Would you have believed me Dean? Hot girl who's into you, real demon-like. And what about you Sam, a priest? I tried telling you not to go with him, or approach him, or confide in him, and that clearly didn't work."

There was silence for a moment, both boys looked at Bobby for confirmation, he just nodded.

"So…you see demons," Dean turned to Bobby, "You're right, that _will_ come in handy in the future."

He reached out, patting Bobby on the shoulder and leading him towards town for a drink, leaving Sam and Michelle.

"Can you see _every_ demon?" Sam asked her curiously.

She nodded, "Even the weakest, though those tend to be when I just see black eyes."

"Can you see when humans are…turning into demons?" he asked after a moment.

She smiled softly, seeing where this was going. She reached out and tentatively rested a hand on his shoulder, "Sam, I see no demon in you whatsoever, not even a glimpse."

He looked straight into her eyes, seeing nothing but truth there. He smiled as well, feeling as though a weight had lifted off his shoulders, "You uh, want to grab a bite to eat before we leave?"

She nodded, "Sure, that sounds great."

~8~

An hour later found Dean and Bobby standing by the Impala on the main street of town, Sam was currently in the hotel room, packing, and Michelle, for whatever reason, decided she wanted to talk to Trotter for a minute. Bobby and Dean stared down the street where Michelle was talking, having their own conversation. All around them, things hadn't changed, people were still going insane with foul intent.

"Well, what do you think Bobby?" Dean asked, looking around the town, "What we did here, you think it made a difference?"

"Two less demons to worry about," Bobby began, "That's not nothing."

"But Trotter's still alive," Dean grumbled, keeping a close eye on the man talking to Michelle.

"Humans ain't our job," Bobby reminded him.

"Yeah, but you think anything's _really _gonna change?" Dean glanced at him, "Maybe these people _do_ just want to really destroy themselves. Maybe it is a losing battle."

"Is that you or the demon girl talking?"

Dean had told him, during lunch, about everything he and Demon Casey had talked about while in the basement. He didn't have to worry about Sam worrying about him as he was too wrapped up in lunch with Michelle to even think about having lunch with him and Bobby.

"Oh, it's me," Dean reassured him, "Demon is dead and so is that hot girl it was possessing."

Bobby shook his head, "Well, had to be done. Sam was saving your life."

"Yeah, but you didn't _see_ it, Bobby," Dean almost shuddered, "It was_ cold_. Bobby."

"Yeah?" Bobby glanced at him as Michelle shook Trotter's hand, gripping it a second longer than necessary.

"Back in Wyoming, uh, there was this moment. Yellow eyes…Azazel…said something to me."

"What did he say?"

"That…maybe…when Sam came back from wherever, that... maybe he came back…different," Dean sighed.

"Different how?"

"I don't know," Dean nearly growled, frustrated, "Whatever it was, it didn't sound good. You think...think something's wrong with my brother?"

"With Sam?" Michelle asked, walking over to them, having caught the last bit of their conversation, "Nothing."

Bobby nodded, "She's right, demons lie. I'm sure Sam's ok."

"Yeah," Dean mumbled, "Yeah, me too."

Michelle rolled her eyes, "Trust me. There isn't anything wrong with Sam. There isn't even a _little_ bit of demon in him that I can see."

"You sure?" Dean narrowed his eyes at her. If she was lying to him…

"Girl don't lie," Bobby replied, "Well…not about important things."

Michelle nodded.

Dean sighed, "I'm gonna swing by the hotel, pick up Sammy."

Michelle made a move to follow when Bobby spoke up, "Actually, you think you could swing round back here for her, want to talk about something."

Dean just shrugged and got into the Impala.

Bobby waited till he had disappeared out of sight before turning to the girl, "I saw you shake his hand," he commented, nodding up the street to Trotter, who appeared deep in thought as he stared at his bar, "What'd you do?"

She smiled softly, "Nothing much…something that'll help I hope."

"Like what?"

"Purified his vision, his intentions," she glanced at Bobby, "Casey and Gil really did a number manipulating the town, but now that the source has been purified of their influence..." she nodded over at Trotter too, "I wouldn't be surprised if the bar was closed within the week and things got back to normal soon after."

Bobby smirked, "Thata girl."

~8~

"Well that was an interesting hunt," Sam commented as he drove the Impala out of the town.

"Ugh, I'm just glad to be out of there," Michelle grumbled from the backseat, "I am _really_ hoping it was just that town that made all the guys into brainless pricks that ogled everything on two legs or else I may just off myself before the next hunt. What _is_ _it_ with you people?"

Same laughed, "You people?"

"Males!"

"Huh…" Dean's muttering cut in. He was looking at Sam's laptop, allowing his little brother to take the wheel for the time being.

"My point proven," Michelle commented.

"Dean, please, whatever you do, _please_ delete those websites when you're done," Sam half-begged, "I really _don't_ wanna see another busty blonde the next time I open my laptop and…"

"I'm not checking that out, but thanks for the idea Sammy," Dean smirked at his brother.

"Then what _are_ you doing?" Michelle asked, leaning forward to look over the backseat at the computer.

"If you must know Demon Casey said something about Lucifer meaning 'Light Bringer' and I wanted to double check it."

"Of course that's what it means," Sam rolled his eyes.

"It's even in the Bible," Michelle added.

"Yeah, I figured, but I'm not about to read the whole Bible just to find it," Dean shot back, "I checked it out on one of those baby naming sites."

"Yes, because they are oh-so accurate."

"Check it out Sammy," Dean continued, ignoring her, "'Samuel, His name is God.' Well that just opens up a whole mess of hilarity and teasing."

"Thanks Dean," Sam said dryly, "What does Dean mean?"

"Let's see…'Dean, from the Valley.' Not the greatest, but not the worst either. Hmmm…" he clicked a few more buttons and turned to look at Michelle, "Michelle, who is like God?"

"I don't know Dean, who?" she replied with a roll of her eyes, already knowing what her name meant.

"Ha ha," Dean remarked, "It literally means, 'Who is like God.'"

"Interesting," Sam commented, "That's what Michael's name means."

"Michael? As in the Archangel?"

Sam nodded as Michelle shook her head at them, "So…what does Robert mean?"

Dean laughed and began searching for Bobby's name.

A/N: Much longer than chapter one eh? :) I hope you got a better idea of Michelle, some of her background, a little of her personality, her skills. There will definitely be more to learn about her as the story goes on, far more questions that will arise with few answers till the very end (if I do my job right). I'm trying really hard to keep her from becoming a Mary Sue, I know that tends to happen if you make a character who is somehow beyond the scope of the universe you're writing in. So I'm going to try to keep everything about her within the realm and possibility of the show. For example her skills as a Hunter and her outlook on hunting is a result of being raised by two Hunters. Her ability to purify demon blood and to see demons could be a result of Azazel trying to bleed in her mouth...or there just might be something else about her. I guess we'll find out eventually :)


	3. Bedtime Stories

Bedtime Stories

The Impala raced down the highway, Sam and Dean bickering in the front as always, Michelle trying to block them out from the back. She was kneeling on the seat, her face pressed against the back window, staring at the empty highway behind them. She craned her neck to follow the sight of a lone bullfrog sitting off to the side of the road until it disappeared in the distance.

"I don't understand, Dean," Sam's voice drifted over to her as she twisted in her seat to face the front, "Why not?"

"Because I said so!" Dean grumbled, his grip on the steering wheel tightening in his frustration.

"But we got the Colt now!"

"Sam..." Dean said warningly before they both began to argue with each other until Michelle could barely understand them.

"We can summon the Crossroads Demon..." Sam began.

"We're not summoning anything," Dean cut in.

"...pull the gun on her and force her to let you out of the deal!"

"We don't even know if that'll work!"

"Well then we'll just shoot her! If she dies then the deal goes away!"

"We don't know if that'll work either, Sam! All you're pitching me right now is a bunch of 'ifs' and 'maybes' and that's not good enough, because if we screw with this deal, you _die_!"

"And if we don't screw with it, _you_ die!"

"Sam, enough! I am _not_ going to have this conversation."

"Why, because you said so?"

"YES BECAUSE I SAID SO!"

"Well you're not dad!"

Michelle, who had been turning her head back and forth following the argument as though it were a tennis match, winced as the brothers fell silent. It wasn't her place to get involved with such a touchy subject, considering she hadn't been travelling with them all that long. She knew all about Dean's deal to sell his soul from Bobby, but she didn't think they'd appreciate a random stranger lecturing them.

"No, but I _am_ the oldest and I'm doing what's best," Dean said after a moment, "And _you're _going to let this go, you understand me?"

She could see Sam visibly deflate, but, glancing at the corner of his face, she could see he was anything but defeated.

Dean sighed, "Tell me about the psychotic killer Michelle."

Seeing the opening of changing the subject, Michelle picked up the paper beside her, "Psychotic killer. Rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity."

"Ok," Dean commented, thinking, "Any mention of his razor sharp teeth or his four inch claws? Animal eyes?"

"No," Sam added, leaning back to look at the paper's date, "But the lunar cycle's right."

Michelle nodded, "If it is a werewolf we don't have long, the moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month."

"Two days," Dean smirked, flooring it, "No sweat."

~8~

The next morning the trio was standing in the hospital room of the lone survivor of the town's latest attack, holding up their fake badges, dressed in their FBI suits, Michelle in pants.

"I'm Detective Plant," Dean introduced himself, putting his badge away, nodding back at Sam and Michelle standing on either side of him, "This is Detective Page and Detective Bonham-Jones, we're with the County Sheriff's Department."

Michelle shook her head, one day Dean's love of giving them names of famous rock stars was going to bite them. Page and Plant? Bonham-Jones? Any Led Zepplin fan could call them out.

"Yeah, uh, I've been expecting you," the man, Kyle, replied.

"You have?" Dean was a bit shocked.

Kyle nodded, "All morning," he glanced at Sam, "You are the sketch artist, right?"

"...um..." he glanced between Michelle and Dean, clearly looking for help.

"Absolutely," Dean smirked.

Which he was not going to get.

Sam hung his head, "Yeah."

"Yeah," Dean laughed, clapping Sam on the back, "That is _exactly _who my partner is. The things he can do with a pen," Sam glared at him, but Dean steadily ignored him, "But listen before we get started on that I wanted to ask you, uh, how'd you get away?"

"I...I have no idea," Kyle mumbled, "I was hiding, and he found me. He was coming right for me and then he just stopped. Staring at me with this blank look. And after that he just took off running."

"'Kay, um," Sam fiddled with his notepad, "I'm going to need as much physical detail as you can remember," he took out a pen and began sketching, much to the amusement of Dean and Michelle, who was taking notes on her own notepad.

"Uh yeah," Kyle thought, "Uh, he's about six feet tall...dark hair..."

"What about his eyes, what color eyes did he have?" Michelle asked, trying to help out, black would mean a demon.

"Maybe blue?" Kyle said, sounding more like a question than a statement, "It was dark."

Crossing off the demon theory, Dean went with the next best guess, "Did they seem, uh, animalish?"

"Excuse me?"

That was a no.

"Guys?" Michelle cut in, only to be ignored.

"What about his teeth? You notice anything strange about 'em?" Sam continued.

Kyle shook his head, "No, they were just teeth."

"I don't think he's…" Michelle tried again.

"How about his fingernails?" Dean interrupted, causing Michelle to huff.

"Ok look he...he's just a...a normal guy, with normal eyes and...and teeth and fingernails!" Kyle nearly shouted.

"Look sir, it's ok if…" Sam began.

"No. No. Those were my brothers! This guy, he...he killed my brothers. How would _you_ feel?"

Sam paused, "I can't imagine anything worse."

Dean glanced at Sam for a moment, "I know this isn't easy, but if you could remember any more details..."

Kyle thought for a moment, "There...there was one more thing he had a...a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character. It's, uh, it's the guy who's chasing the Roadrunner…"

"Wile E. Coyote?"

"Yeah, that's it," Kyle confirmed as a man in a doctor's coat walked into the room.

"Kyle?" the doctor asked.

"Dr. Garrison," Kyle greeted.

"How you holding up?"

"Ok, considering…"

"You're Kyle's doctor?" Dean asked, the man nodded. Dean flipped out his ID, "Can I just ask you a few questions?"

"Sure," Dr. Garrison said, leaving the room with Dean.

Sam and Michelle were about to follow, when Kyle called out to them, "Don't I get to see it?"

Sam flinched and turned back to face the bed, fidgeting with his notepad, "What? Uh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, um yeah it's a, you know, work-in-progress."

He handed his notebook to Kyle, only for the man to see a horribly drawn picture of a man. It distinctly reminded Michelle of a child's drawing.

"Hmm," Kyle hummed, squinting at it about, "It...it's really...um…"

Michelle smiled softly, taking the pad from the patient and giving it back to Sam, "How's this?" she handed her own notepad to him.

"Yeah!" Kyle nodded fervently, "That's him! Almost exactly!"

Sam furrowed his brow as Michelle took the pad back with a, "Thank you for your help, sir."

She turned and began walking towards the door, Sam following after. As soon as they were in the hallway she turned and handed the pad to Sam, knowing he wanted to see it. It was a decent sketch, portraying a generic male with some of the traits that the Kyle had given.

"Wow…" Sam said, examining the sketch, handing it back to her, "You're a closet artist too?"

She laughed, shaking her head, "My mom was an anthropologist. Sketching is part of the package for some," she glanced at Sam, "What, you thought my mom's only contribution to my upbringing was telling me stories?"

"How is sketching part of hunting?" Sam countered.

"Touché," she laughed.

They spotted Dean down the hall, speaking with the doctor, and made their way towards them.

~8~

Dean couldn't stop laughing as they walked down the street, away from the hospital. He had Sam's notepad in his hands as well as Michelle's and received no end of pleasure in comparing Sam's to hers.

"Boy this is a piece of uh…art," he commented, glancing at his brother, "Really. It should go in a gallery."

Michelle laughed, stepping over a bullfrog, sitting on the corner, as they crossed the street.

Sam grabbed the notepad away from his brother, "Yeah like you could've done any better."

"Apparently Mickey could," Dean laughed.

"Don't call me that!" Michelle grumbled, punching him in the arm.

"So what did the Doc have to say about Kyle's brothers?" Sam interrupted, trying to keep them both from starting a war that only one of them would survive.

"Not much," Dean shrugged, "They were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report."

"Lemme guess, their hearts were missing?"

"Nope," Dean remarked, popping the p, "But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines."

"Gross," Michelle commented.

"Yeah, also definitely not werewolf behavior."

"I could have told you that. The way he was reacting to your questions about fangs and claws was enough of a tip off that it's human, or human-like."

"So, what?" Sam shook his head, "Demon? Attacker could've been possessed."

Both Dean and Michelle shook their heads, "Why would a demon stop halfway through an attack?" Dean asked.

"I think that, uh...coulda...I...I got nothing," Sam sighed.

"Me neither."

"And besides, during an attack a demon's eyes usually flash black at some point," Michelle added, "Even if it was dark out, hard to notice the whites of someone's eyes completely disappearing."

~8~

The next day the trio found themselves back in the hospital, visiting a different patient this time, a young woman, Julie Watson. They arrived at the room just as Dr. Garrison was leaving, "Detectives," he greeted with a nod.

"Dr. Garrison," Dean returned the favor.

"What the hell is going on here? My whole town is going insane!"

Sam sighed, "We'll let you know as soon as we do."

The doctor sighed and walked off, allowing them to enter the room.

"Ms. Watson?" Sam asked, stepping up to her bed, "Hi. We just need to ask you a few questions."

They flipped out their badges quickly.

"Do we have to go over this again _now_?" Julie sighed.

Michelle smiled reassuringly, "We'll try to be brief. Ms. Watson. Can you tell us how you got away?"

"I didn't eat as much as Ken did, so I wasn't as out of it," she said, before tearing up, "And, when the old woman was...carving up Ken, I shoved her and she fell. Cracked her head on the stove. She's dead, right? I...I killed her?"

Not wanting to answer the question, Dean changed the subject, "D'you have any idea why she did this to you?"

"No! One minute she was a sweet old lady and the next she was, like, a monster."

"Can you remember anything else?" Sam continued.

"Um, yeah," she mumbled, looking at them, "Did you find a little girl there, by any chance?"

"A little girl?" Michelle repeated, glancing at the boys before focusing on the girl again, "At the house?"

"I thought I saw her outside the window. She just disappeared. Just vanished, into thin air. It...it must've been the drugs."

"This disappearing girl what'd it…what did _she _look like?" Dean eased.

"Does it matter?" Julie asked exasperatedly.

"Yes," Sam nodded, "Every detail matters."

Julie sighed, "She had this dark, _dark_ hair and _really_ pale skin. She was around eight. She was a beautiful child, it was...odd...to see her in the middle of something so horrible."

~8~

"Well there's no sulfur anywhere," Dean commented as he investigated the outside of 'the Old Lady's home' later that day, "How about the EMF?"

"Yeah," Michelle called from inside, holding the small device. She'd already told the boys she didn't suspect a demon, but, as she hadn't come face-to-face with the thing killing everyone, they couldn't be sure, "It's going nuts right over here by the window."

Sam nodded, walking over to her, "There's definitely a spirit here."

Dean walked over to the window, looking at them from outside, "Who stood outside the crime scene and watched?"

"Looks like," Sam confirmed grimly.

"What the hell do you make of that?" Dean asked them as they walked out of the house.

"Actually I do have a theory," Sam paused, "Uh, sorta."

"Hit me."

"Well, I was thinking about fairytales," Sam said, before realizing what he said and how it sounded.

"What?" Michelle asked, confused.

Dean just snorted, "Oh that's...that's nice. You think about fairytales often?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "No, Dean I'm talking about the murders. A guy and a girl, hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's 'Hansel and Gretel.' Then we got three brothers, arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf."

Dean nodded, "'Three Little Pigs.'"

"What are you guys talking about?" Michelle asked. They turned around to see her staring at them as though they'd gone crazy.

"Huh?" Dean asked oh-so eloquently.

She shook her head at them, waiting for an explanation.

"Wait," Sam caught on, "You've never heard of the 'Three Little Pigs?' 'The Big Bad Wolf?'"

She shook her head.

"'Little Red Riding Hood?' 'Hansel and Gretel?'" Dean tried, but she just shook her head again.

"Who are they?" she asked.

"You've never heard any fairytales before?" Sam tilted his head, "Bedtime stories?"

Michelle rolled her eyes, "What part of 'my mom told me stories of vicious creatures and how to kill them for bedtime stories' did you guys not get? I know what fairytales _are_ I just…"

"Wait," Dean laughed, "You've _never_ read a fairytale before? The Grimm Brothers? _Nothing_?"

"NO!" she shouted, getting more and more frustrated with them.

"This'll be interesting," Dean muttered to himself, "Sammy, you want to take that one?"

"The Grimm Brothers," Sam began, "Were the original authors of most children's bedtime stories, fairytales. Their original stuff was kinda the folklore of it's day, full of sex and violence, cannibalism, meant to teach children lessons. It got sanitized over the years, turned into Disney flicks and the bedtime stories of our time."

Michelle nodded, following along, mostly, "So you think the murders are related?"

"Like a reenactment?" Dean continued, "That's a little crazy."

"Crazy as what?" Sam laughed, "Every day of our lives?"

"Touché. How's the creepy ghost girl involved?"

"Well, she must've been here for a reason. I'm willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too."

Dean sighed, "We gotta do research now, don't we?"

Sam shrugged while Dean looked pained. Michelle just grinned. She actually _liked_ research, and this was one of the few creatures she _didn't_ know about.

~8~

Six hours later Dean emerged from the county library, looking none too pleased. He glared at his brother and Michelle sitting comfortably in the Impala. Sam had offered to stay with Michelle, explaining the various fairytales to her so she wouldn't fall into some sort of trap like the various damsels did. Before he could get a word in to argue, Michelle had accepted and Dean was left looking for dead girls. Joy.

"So?" Sam looked up from the driver's seat where he was leaning over to point out some things on his laptop, sitting open on Michelle's lap. Dean almost raised an eyebrow at that, Sam was very particular and partial to his laptop, he didn't let just anyone use it.

Well wasn't that cute, looked like little Sammy had a little crush.

"I checked every record they had," he grumbled, forcing the passenger's seat forward with Michelle in it. He could have used the back door, but he wanted them to be as irritated as he was.

"Hey!" she called as he slid into the backseat and laid down, pressing his hands to his eyes.

"Found the usual amount of childhood deaths for a town this size."

"Ok," Sam said.

"Wanna know how many how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?"

Michelle smirked, "Judging by your pleasant demeanor…zero?" she guessed.

Dean thumped the back of her seat.

~8~

"Zero!" Dean continued to grumble as they walked in the park, he claimed he needed to stretch his legs after sitting for so long, "You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing? Right again. Zip. zilch, nada. Tell me you've got _something_ good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours."

"Well you ever hear of Lillian Bailey?" Sam cut in, saving him and Michelle from the agony of listening to Dean bitch for another hour, "She was a British medium from the 1930s."

"She got a thing for fairytales?" Dean snapped, getting frustrated with the whole thing.

Sam almost laughed, "No..._trances_. See, she'd go into these unconscious states where um, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits."

"A ghost puppet master?" Dean stopped his pacing to face them.

"Yeah," Michelle nodded.

"Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolfboy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?"

"Could be," Sam shrugged, "You know, kinda like uh, a spirit hypnosis or somethin'."

"Trances I get, but _fairytale_ trances?" Dean looked at him incredulously, "That's bizarre even for us."

They paused in their walking as a croaking noise reached them. They looked down to see a bullfrog sitting in their path.

Sam shot a look at Dean, "Yeah, you're right, that's _completely_ normal."

"That's the third one I've seen," Michelle stated, squinting at the frog.

"Alright maybe it _is_ fairytales," Dean acquiesced, "Totally messed-up fairytales."

Then, as if a thought struck them, Dean and Sam turned to look at Michelle, now squatting to look more closely at the frog. Feeling their stares on her, she glanced up at them, quirking an eyebrow before realizing _why_ they were looking at her, "Oh, no. No way in hell am I kissing a frog."

Sam laughed, when something caught his eye, "Hey, check that out," he pointed across the street where a pumpkin sat on the porch of a house.

"Yeah?" Dean shrugged, not seeing any significance in the random pumpkin, "It's close to Halloween."

"What?" Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. They just get done confirming that it's probably fairytales and the man completely fails to see it staring him in the face, "You remember 'Cinderella?'"

"The pumpkin that turns into a coach and the mice that become horses?" Michelle asked, squinting as she tried to recall if that was the correct story.

"Dude, could you _be_ more gay?" Dean glared at his brother. Sam just stared at him, speechless, "Don't answer that."

They quickly made their way across the street to the house with the pumpkin and entered as quietly as they could.

"Well who knows, maybe you'll find your Fairy Godmother?" Dean smirked at Michelle.

"Is that supposed to be a slam on my outfit?" she asked, recalling how Cinderella had been dressed in rags.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, when Sam silenced them with a finger to his lips. He motioned for them all to split up, but a sound reached them. Deftly, they drew their guns and walked towards the kitchen where the noise had originated.

"Help!" someone called, "I'm in here!"

That was all they needed to rush down the rest of the hall and into the room, only to see a teenage girl sitting on the floor, handcuffed to a cabinet.

"Hey, hey, it's ok, we're here, we got you," Sam comforted as he made his way over to her, making use of his lock picking skills, Michelle and Dean stood standing, guns out, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

"You have to help me," the girl begged, "She's a lunatic."

"What happened?" Dean asked, gaze flickering from every door.

"My stepmom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me," the girl cried, "Chained me up."

"Where is she now?" Michelle glanced down at her.

"I don't know," the girl replied, fear in her voice.

Dean leaned back from peeking out at the living room, only to catch something in the corner of his eye. He turned his head to look through the kitchen door, seeing a little girl peeking out at him. She fit the description, dark haired, pale, red ribbon in her hair.

"Hey," Dean called, drawing all their attention. Michelle and Sam looked over to see the girl as well.

She stood there for only a moment before walking away.

Dean glanced at Michelle, who nodded, moving to the center of the room to take position as guard, while Dean went and followed the girl. Sam looked back at the cuffs and quickly got back to work picking it.

~8~

Dean was sitting on the hood of the Impala, tossing something back and forth in his hands as Michelle and Sam approached him. They had made sure that the girl made it out of the house and waited for the cops to come and help out.

"Paramedics picked up Cinderella," Sam announced.

"Good," Dean commented, tossing the object to Sam. Michelle glanced over to see it was an apple, "So...little girl, shiny red apple. I'm guessing that means something to you, fairytale boy?"

"'Snow White?'" Michelle supplied, saving Sam from having to endure Dean's ridicule with an answer.

Sam just nodded.

"Snow White?" Dean grinned, "Oh, I saw that movie. Well the porn version anyway. There was this Wicked Stepmother? Woo, she was _wicked_."

Sam rolled his eyes, "There _is_ a Wicked Stepmother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple."

"But the apple doesn't actually_ kill_ the girl, right?" Dean asked, getting serious.

"No," Michelle concluded, recalling the story, "It puts her into a deep sleep, so deep it's _almost_ like she's dead."

Sam tossed the apple to Michelle as she got into the back of the Impala, he and his brother getting in the front.

~8~

"No, sorry," the nurse on duty at the hospital said as the three of them stood before her desk a little while later, "We don't have any comatose little girls."

"You sure?" Sam asked again.

The nurse nodded, "Totally. It's mostly old guys. And well, Callie. She's been around since before I started here."

"Callie?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah, it's so sad," the nurse shook her head, "And poor Dr. Garrison, he just won't give up on her."

"Is Callie one of his patients?" Michelle tried.

The nurse frowned sadly, "No. His daughter."

"Thank you," Michelle smiled at the nurse, turning around with the boys, "We have to find her room."

They nodded and set off down the halls, heading for the coma ward, looking into every room they passed there until they heard a voice drift over to them, "...and the Huntsman stepped inside..." they looked at each other and walked over to the next door to see Dr. Garrison sitting at the bedside of a woman with black hair, a book of fairytales open in his hand, "…and in the bed lay the Wolf. So the Huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut open the Wolf's belly."

Dr. Garrison glanced up to see them standing outside the door. He quickly shut the book and stood as they entered the room, "Detectives," he cleared his throat, "Can I help you?"

"We just..." Dean trailed.

"Heard that Callie is your daughter," Michelle continued.

"And we wanted to say how very sorry we are," Sam finished.

Dr. Garrison nodded, "Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me…"

He stepped out of the room only to be followed by the trio, "Oh, heading this way?" Dean called, "We'll walk with you. How long's Callie been like that?"

"Way to be blunt Dean," Michelle whispered.

"We don't mean to intrude, we can't possibly understand how hard it must be for you, seeing her like this," Sam apologized.

"It's not easy," the doctor admitted, "She's uh, been here since she was eight years old."

"That's when she was poisoned?" Sam asked, flinching when he realized the doctor had never said anything about poisoning.

Dr. Garrison didn't seem to notice as he just nodded, "Yes. Swallowed bleach. Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, uh, brought her to the ER here and I was on call."

"Your wife was uh, was that Callie's stepmother?" Dean ventured.

Dr. Garrison stopped walking and turned to them, shocked, "Actually, yes. How'd you know that?"

Dean shrugged, "Lucky guess."

"Well, Julie was the only mother that uh, Callie ever knew," Dr. Garrison continued, eyeing them curiously, "My wife passed away last year and uh, it's just my daughter and me now. She's all I got left. Um, excuse me, I gotta get back to work."

"Of course," Michelle nodded, watching as the doctor walked away.

"Well you're right," Dean glanced at them, "It's Snow White in spades."

"Yep," Sam nodded, "Stepmom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive you think?"

"Could be like Mischa Barton," Dean shrugged again, "'Sixth Sense' not 'The O.C.'"

Michelle looked at him, "What?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Hey, you two know fairytales,_ I_ know movies. She played the pasty ghost? You know the, uh, remember the mom had that thing you know, where you keep the kid sick so _you_ get all the attention?

"Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy," Sam and Michelle answered at the same time before glancing at each other.

"Yeah…" Dean eyed them oddly, before continuing, "So, say all these years Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?"

Sam nodded, starting to walk off with Dean and Michelle on either side of him, "And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out."

"Right. Meanwhile she has to listen to dad tell her these deranged stories about a rabid wolf or a cannibalistic old lady, it's enough to drive anybody nuts."

"But how are we gonna _stop_ her?" Michelle asked, "I mean Callie's stuck here, her father's keeping her body alive."

"It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones."

"You think?" Sam said sarcastically.

Suddenly the doors of the reception area burst open and a team of EMTs raced through with a stretcher between them. They could see an elderly woman lying on it.

"Ok, what's her status?" they heard a doctor call as he moved next to the stretcher.

"72 year old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds," the second EMT answered, "BP is 80 over 40 and falling. Sinus tachycardia."

"What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?" Michelle asked Sam, keeping her gaze on the gurney disappearing through the ER doors.

"'Little Red Riding Hood,'" Sam answered as Dean walked purposely towards the ER. They reached the doors just in time to see a white sheet being thrown over the woman.

Dean looked around, noticing the second EMT off to the side, "Excuse me!" he jogged over, Michelle and Sam following after, "Was she the only victim?"

"She was found by the side of the road, barely alive," he answered, "Alone."

Sam nodded, "We need to find her next of kin."

"Yeah, she has a granddaughter."

"Do you have an address?" Michelle asked, hopeful. The EMT nodded, pulling out a sheet of paper and handing it to them. They thanked the man and quickly walked away.

Dean stopped walking a little ways off, "Hey, you find a way to stop Callie, alright?"

"What about you?" Sam looked at his brother.

Dean just grinned and took the paper from Michelle, "I'm gonna go stop the Big Bad Wolf," his grin faltered as he considered his words, "Which is the weirdest thing I've ever said."

He shook his head and walked away, leaving Sam and Michelle to stare after him.

Sensing the worry coming from Sam, Michelle grinned, "I'm sure that's not the_ weirdest_ thing he's ever said," she commented, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam looked at her, seeing what she was trying to do, and smiled, "Come on," he took her hand and pulled her down the hallway, "We should probably find Dr. Garrison."

~8~

They'd been searching for a few minutes when they finally spotted Dr. Garrison a few halls down from Callie's room.

"Dr. Garrison!" Sam shouted, jogging up to him, "We need to speak with you."

"Detectives," the doctor greeted, "What can I do for you?"

"Well, um," Sam glanced at Michelle for help, but it appeared she didn't have any better idea of how to talk to him about this than he did, "It's about Callie."

"My daughter?" he stiffened, "What about her?"

"You know maybe…maybe we should sit down for a minute?" Michelle suggested, fidgeting.

"No," he almost growled in annoyance, "What about her?"

"'Kay, well, um," Sam paused, "Alright doctor, this isn't gonna be easy. What happened to Callie was not an accident."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry," Michelle confirmed, "But it's true."

"You have no idea what happened to my daughter," he stated before walking off down the hall, towards Callie's room.

Sam and Michelle shared a glance before going after him.

"There are things you don't know doctor, about your wife," Sam tried.

"My wife?" Dr. Garrison didn't stop walking.

"Doctor, your wife poisoned Callie," Michelle said.

"Why would you_ say_ something so horrible to me?" he paused, before thinking better of it and resuming his walk, a bit more briskly than before.

"Because we need your help," Michelle continued desperately.

"You stay away from me and my daughter, you understand?"

"Doctor this isn't...please, uh…" before Sam could even finish, the doctor had entered Callie's room and shut the door in their face. Sam sighed and opened the door, following him in. Michelle shut the door gently behind her.

Dr. Garrison glanced at them, reaching for the phone in Callie's room, "I'm calling security."

Sam reached out and stopped him, grabbing the phone as well. Michelle made her way to the back of it and yanked the cord out of the wall.

"No, listen," Sam glared at the man, "We _don't_ have time to do this. If you don't listen to me more people are going to get hurt. Because _Callie_ is going to hurt them."

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded.

"You're going to think we're crazy, but just_ listen_," Michelle stepped up, "Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit."

Dr. Garrison seemed to deflate at that as he looked over at Callie's body, "So you've seen her too?" he asked, surprising them both, "I sensed her, Callie, her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at foot of my bed but I never _believed_ it, I thought I was dreaming, I…"

"It wasn't a dream," Michelle took another step forward, laying a comforting hand on the doctor's shoulder. Sam had to admit he was a bit impressed with how she was able to switch from badass Hunter with a gun to compassionate woman just like that, "She looks like she did when she was eight. White dress. Red ribbon in her hair. She's been trying to _talk_ to you. But you're not _hearing_ her. You don't want to hear her, because you don't want to know what she'll say. You don't want to know what _really_ happened, what you feel you _let_ happen."

He sighed, "You're not cops are you?"

Sam shook his head, "No."

"Then who are you?"

"People who knows a little bit about this kind of thing," Michelle said gently, smiling.

"But, what you said about my wife poisoning Callie, that's…"

"Sir. Callie told us," Sam tried.

"What?"

"Not in so many words, but in her own way," Michelle nodded, "She told us."

He shook his head in denial, proving Michelle's previous statement, "My wife loved Callie. So how is...how is that _possible_?"

"I don't know," Sam admitted, "But it is."

"No," the shaking got worse, "No I...I don't believe you."

"Look, Callie is killing people. She's angry, she's desperate, because nobody will listen to her. So you _have _to _listen_ to her."

Michelle squeezed the man's shoulder, "Please, listen to your daughter."

Dr. Garrison nodded and made his way over to Callie's bed. He sat down on the side of it and reached out, taking her hand in his own, "Callie? Callie it's dad," he called, looking up at Sam and Michelle. They nodded encouragingly. He took a breath and turned back to his daughter, "It's me, daddy. Is it true? Mommy do that to you? I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Daddy's here. Please honey, is there something you wanna tell me?"

"Doctor…" Sam said softly.

Dr. Garrison looked up at Sam, who nodded behind him. He turned again to see young Callie standing on the other side of the bed.

"Is it true?" he asked her, her spirit simply nodded as her father's eyes filled with tears, "I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me. You gotta stop what you're doing, ok? You're _hurting_ people. I know everything now. I know the_ truth_. It's time for you to let go. It's time for _me_ to let you go."

Michelle and Sam watched on sadly as Dr. Garrison turned back to the bed and kissed his daughter on the forehead just before her monitor flat lined. Sam looked down, clearly upset by the circumstances. Michelle reached out and took his hand in hers. He looked at her, startled, but smiled when he saw her nod in reassurance.

~8~

"And the girl's ok?" Dr. Garrison asked as Dean finished explaining his brief debut as the Huntsman. He'd returned a little while ago to tell them that things seemed back to normal on his end and ask how they'd managed to stop the ghost girl. Dean nodded and the doctor breathed out a sigh of relief, "So, it's really over?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"All thanks to you," Michelle added, smiling at him.

"Callie was the most important thing in my life," the man said, in thought, "But I should've let her go a long time ago."

Dean grinned, "See ya around, Doc."

Dr. Garrison laughed, patting Dean on the shoulder, "I sure hope not," he said, before walking away.

"Impressive stuff back there," Sam commented when the doctor was out of earshot.

"What?" Dean asked, looking between the two.

"She totally played the doctor," Sam smirked.

"I did not!" she sounded just a bit offended. "It's not _that_ hard to give a few comforting words to people in times of need," she paused, seeing them looking at her, each with an eyebrow raised, she sighed, "Fine, I played him. But you'd be surprised, sometimes compassion goes farther than fear."

Sam just laughed as they turned to walk back to the parking lot.

"You know what Garrison said?" Dean commented as they walked, glancing at Sam, "Some good advice."

All previous mirth was gone from Sam's eyes as his jaw tensed at the words, "Is that what you want me to do Dean? Just let you go?"

He looked at his brother after not receiving an answer. Dean just looked at him knowingly before walking off.

"Don't worry Sam," Michelle's voice cut in as she once again took his hand and led him down the hallway in the direction Dean went, "Everything will work out in the end. And if it's not working out, it's not the end."

Sam just sighed, he'd guessed that she knew about Dean's deal from Bobby, that just confirmed it, "I wish that were true."

~8~

Later that night Sam picked up his bag from his bed, glancing over at a sleeping Dean on the second bed and Michelle laid out on the couch as he made his way out of the room. As soon as the door shut Michelle's eyes snapped open and she rolled off the couch. She quickly slipped on her shoes and, casting a glance at Dean as well, crept out of the room. She could see Sam easily as he tried to surreptitiously and inconspicuously walk away from the motel.

She sighed as she watched him go, shaking her head. She had an idea what he was planning to do, especially when she saw him slip the Colt into his bag while Dean had gone for a shower and she was 'digging' through her bag.

As quietly as she could she followed after him, making sure that he didn't notice her on his journey. She watched as he came to a crossroads and crouched down at its center, burying a box of the needed items, and waiting for the demon to appear.

Suddenly a woman in a black dress was standing there, talking and taunting him. She could see Sam glaring, not too pleased with the demon before pulling the Colt. She listened intently to their conversation, making a note to look into various important details that had been mentioned.

Apparently, some demon named Ruby knew how to make demon killing Colts, Dean had already been to that Crossroads Demon, someone _else_ was holding the contract that would send Dean to Hell, and demons clearly _didn't_ understand the bond between brothers…or Shakespeare.

Before she knew it, Sam had shot the demon in between the eyes. He lowered the Colt, breathing hard, staring at the body with a look in his eyes that reminded her of a wounded puppy crossed with self-loathing.

"Sam," she called softly, stepping towards him.

He turned to look at her, and she could see the beginnings of tears he would never let fall collecting in his eyes. She quickly walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. A few moments later she felt his arms wrap around her as well.

A/N: Lol, I once knew a woman named Michelle and she insisted that everyone call her Miss Mickey. I thought it would be a funny nickname for Dean to give her, but clearly...she doesn't like it very much. I suppose we've got Mickey and Sammy for Dean to use just to irritate them :) This chapter will definitely spark a turning point in how Dean sees Michelle.

Poor Michelle though, not even knowing fairytales, but then again, her parents probably doubted they'd run into fairy godmothers and the like. I could see them teaching her about the monsters in the stories without actually telling her the stories.

Gotta say, next chapter, one word. Gertie. Oh boy, poor Sam :)


	4. Red Sky at Morning

Red Sky at Morning

The sun had just set as the Impala raced across the highway. Dean was driving this time, fidgeting slightly, almost uncomfortably.

"If you want to pull over," Michelle called from the backseat where she was reading a small book with a pen flashlight, jotting notes in a journal, "I'm sure we can find a bush somewhere for you."

"Ha ha," Dean retorted sarcastically, glancing over his shoulder at her before moving his gaze to Sam, alternating between the two, "So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs. You two got something to tell me?"

Sam looked at Dean, confused, shooting Michelle a glance, only to see she was equally as confused as he was, "It's not your birthday," Sam said slowly.

"No."

"Happy Purim?" Michelle tried but Dean just shook his head.

"Dude, I don't know," Sam sighed, "I have no idea what you're talking abou…"

"Oh, I think you _know_ what I'm talking about," Dean glanced at Sam again, a smirk growing on his face as he waggled his eyebrows, "I wake up to see the _two_ of you MIA?"

"Dean…" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"Go for a little moonlight stroll around town? A late night rompe? Do a little sightseeing?"

"Right…" Michelle bit out sarcastically.

"Hey, hey, hey," Dean laughed, "I'm not judging. You do what you gotta do Sammy-boy, Mickey, just hope you used some protection."

"Dean!" Sam shouted, clearly embarrassed and scandalized by what his brother was implying.

"We didn't…" Michelle added at the same time.

"And I'm not just talking about using some old sort of Old World contraceptive," Dean continued, ignoring their protests, "I don't think a necklace or drawing some symbol on the ground would keep the bullets from hitting their target."

"Oh God Dean just _stop_!" Sam begged.

Dean looked at the two of them, seeing their now-pink faces and the way they were avoiding looking at each other. He laughed, "Just messing with you Sammy."

"Hardy har har," Michelle ground out, smacking Dean on the back of the head.

Dean was silent for a moment as his face grew more and more serious, "But seriously Sam," he looked over at his brother, "You _really_ think I wouldn't notice a bullet missing from the Colt?"

Sam looked away, knowing he'd been caught.

Dean sighed, "Do you wanna tell me how that happened?" Sam just shook his head, "I know it wasn't me. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans..."

"Dean…" Michelle began, trying to prevent yet _another_ argument, but Dean ignored her, going off on Sam instead.

"You went after her, didn't you? The Crossroads Demon, after I _told_ you _not_ to."

"Yeah," Sam admitted, "But…"

"You could have gotten yourself killed!"

"But I didn't."

"And you shot her."

"She was being a smartass," Michelle defended.

Dean glared at her through the rearview mirror, "And you didn't stop him?"

"Honestly. If he hadn't shot her, I would have."

Dean paused for a moment, "So, what? Does that...does that mean I'm out of my deal?"

"Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean?" Sam snapped, now in a mood.

"Someone else holds the contract," Michelle explained.

"Who?" Dean asked.

"She wouldn't say," Sam looked down.

Dean shook his head, his jaw clenching in a way that told Michelle he was about to be _very_ sarcastic, "Well, we should find out who, of course, our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute..."

"That's _not_ funny Dean," Michelle cut in, glancing at Sam's downcast appearance before glaring at Dean.

"No, it's not!" he agreed, loudly, "It was a stupid freakin' risk, and you shouldn't have done it."

Sam's head whipped to the side to stare at him in disbelief, "I shouldn't have done it? You're my _brother_, Dean. And no matter what you do, I'm gonna try and save you. And I'm sure as hell not gonna _apologize _for it, alright?"

Dean just shook his head, staring out at the road, ignoring his brother.

Sam mimicked his moves, looking out the side window, half-turning his body away.

Michelle just sighed and rubbed her head, she knew these brothers were going to give her a serious migraine or two before their journey was over.

~8~

Sam, Dean, and Michelle stood before an old woman holding a picture of a young woman, her granddaughter, who had recently died under mysterious circumstances.

"But I don't understand," the old woman said softly, "I already went over all this with the other detectives."

"Right, yes, uh, but, see, we're, uh…" Dean began before Michelle cut in.

"We're with the sheriff's department, not the police department."

"Right," Dean nodded, shooting her a grateful look.

"So, Mrs. Case..." Sam continued.

"Please, _Ms._ Case," Ms. Case corrected, staring at Sam with a more than suggestive look in her eyes.

Both Michelle and Dean raised an eyebrow at how obviously smitten she was with Sam. Both were also enjoying the awkward smile Sam was trying to offer, way too uncomfortable with the situation to succeed as Ms. Case proceeded to look him up and down, undressing him with her eyes.

"Ok," Sam cleared his throat, getting her to look him in the eye instead of lower, "Um, Ms. Case, um...you were the one who found your niece, correct?"

Ms. Case nodded, "I came home, she was in the shower."

"Drowned?" Dean guessed.

"So the coroner says," Ms. Case sighed, "Now, you tell me, how can someone _drown_ in a _shower_?"

"I've seen people drown in their soup," Michelle commented offhandedly. They all turned to stare at her, "It happens!"

Sam shook his head, turning back to Ms. Case, "How would you describe Sheila's behavior in the days before her death? I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary?"

Ms. Case looked at him suspiciously for a moment before her face relaxed into realization, "Wait a minute, you're working with Alex, aren't you?"

Dean looked at them both and shrugged subtly, "Yep, absolutely. That's, ha ha ha...Alex and us, we're like this," he crossed his fingers.

"Why didn't you _say_ so?" Ms. Case laughed, "Alex has been _such_ a comfort. But I'm sorry," she sat down, putting the picture frame on the table next to her, "I thought the case was solved."

"Well, no," Michelle continued Dean's lead, "No, not yet."

Ms. Case's lips pursed, "I see."

"So, anyway, we were talking about your niece," Sam brought the conversation back to point.

"Well, yes, Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat."

"A boat?" Dean asked, glancing at his partners.

Ms. Case nodded, "Yes, one minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a ghost ship?" they exchanged glances over Ms. Case's head, startled that a civilian was considering such a supernatural thought, "Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship."

"Well...it _could_ be," Michelle confirmed slowly.

Ms. Case nodded, her eyes back on Sam, "Well, you let me know if there's _anything_ else I can do for you."

Sam nodded uncomfortably, growing tenser as Ms. Case stood and reached out a hand to stroke his own, her thumb brushing along Sam's index finger, repeatedly. Dean and Michelle eyed the happenings as Sam took a step back and dropped his arms, which had been crossed before him, looking around nervously.

"Anything at all," Ms. Case repeated.

Sam nodded, looking towards his brother for help. Dean, unfortunately, was trying and failing to hide his growing amused smile behind his hand. Seeing this, he looked to Michelle. She was eyeing Ms. Case with a mild form of a grimace on her face but, seeing Sam's pleading look, she cleared her throat.

That seemed to snap Ms. Case out of her musings as she sat back down and returned to looking at the picture. Sam took this opportunity to quickly make his way from the house, Dean and Michelle following behind, Dean groaning after Michelle elbowed him in the stomach.

~8~

They were all walking along the boardwalk, having left 'Cougartown' as Dean had pleasantly referred to it.

"What a crazy, old broad," Dean commented.

"Why?" Sam glanced at his brother, "Because she believes in ghosts?"

Dean laughed, "Look at you, sticking up for your girlfriend, you cougar hound."

"Bite me."

"Hey, not if she bites you first."

Michelle rolled her eyes, "Well at least you can take comfort in knowing Gertie's not a demon," she then smirked a bit, "Any and all bites will be nonlethal."

"Yes!" Dean exclaimed, lifting a hand for Michelle to high-five.

"Et tu?" Sam looked at her.

She just shrugged.

"So, who's this Alex?" Dean said after a moment, "We got another player in town?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Sam sighed, "Doesn't change our job."

"And we _are_ thinking ghost ship, right?" Michelle confirmed.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, it's not the first one sighted around here, either."

"Really?" Dean looked at him.

"Yeah, every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing, three-mast, clipper ship out in the bay."

"And every 37 years, a rash of weird, dry-land drownings?" Michelle ventured, Sam nodded.

"So, whatever's happening is just getting started," Dean grinned, sensing another hunt about to begin.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed.

"What's the lore?"

Sam's brow furrowed in thought as he recalled what he'd learned, "Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world."

"The S.S. Violet, the Griffin, the Flying Dutchman," Michelle listed a few. Both brothers looked at her, "What?"

They shook their head as Sam continued, "Almost all of them are death omens."

"So, what happens?" Dean looked between the two, "You see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?"

"Basically," Michelle nodded.

"What's the next step?"

"We gotta I.D. the boat," Sam said.

Dean nodded, "That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many three-mast, clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?"

"I checked that too, actually…over 150."

"Wow," Dean whistled.

"Yeah."

Dean sighed, "Crap."

Michelle smirked, "Mhmm..."

They walked a bit more, going up some stairs to the lot they had parked the car on. They stopped beside the meter and looked around, only to see no car parked there. Michelle and Sam glanced at each other before turning to look behind them, making sure they came the right way, as Dean walked onto the empty spot.

"This _is_ where we parked the car, right?" he asked them

"I thought so," Sam confirmed.

"Where's my car?" Dean asked again, as though they hadn't been with him the entire time and knew the answer.

"Did you feed the meter?" Michelle looked at him.

"Did I…yes, I fed the meter!" Dean growled, "Sam, where's my car? Somebody stole my car!" he turned to face them, storming onto the sidewalk, an air of fury around him.

Sam's eyes widened, having never seen his brother this angry before. He walked over to his brother's side, "Hey, hey, hey, hey, calm down, Dean…"

"I am calmed down! Somebody stole my ca…" he bent down suddenly, his hands braced on his knees, hyperventilating.

Michelle ran over to them, putting a hand on Dean's back, rubbing it, "Whoa, Dean, hey, hey, take it easy," she mumbled, "Breathe…you know, hee hee who."

"I'm not giving _birth_!" he spat out as Sam pulled his arm and helped him stand again. He too put his hand on Dean's back, patting it, trying to comfort him. It wasn't helping, Dean was still breathing heavily.

"The '67 Impala?" a voice called, they all turned to see Bela walking towards them, "Was that yours?"

Michelle rolled her eyes, realizing what had happened, as Sam and Dean glared at her. While she had never met Bela personally, she'd heard the stories, seen some pictures around of the woman.

"Bela," Sam ground out.

"I'm sorry, I had that car towed," she said, mockingly sorrowful.

"You what?!" Dean half-screamed, trying to lunge at her only to be held back by Sam and Michelle.

"Well, it was in a tow-away zone."

"No, it wasn't!"

Bela smirked, "It was when I finished with it."

"What the hell are you even doing here?"

Bela shrugged, looking around, nonchalant, "A little yachting."

Michelle snorted.

Sam eyed the woman, "You're Alex. You're working with that old lady."

"Gert's a dear old friend," Bela confirmed.

"Yeah, right, what's your angle?" Michelle stepped up.

"There's no angle, there's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats."

"And let me guess, it's all a con, none of its real?" Dean finished.

Bela mock glared at him, "The comfort I provide them is_ very_ real."

She turned to walk away, pausing when Sam called out to her, "How do you sleep at night?"

Bela glanced over her shoulder at them, "On silk sheets, rolling naked in money."

Dean quirked an eyebrow at that, imagining that scenario.

"Oh, Dean," Michelle rolled her eyes in disgust.

Bela sighed, "Really, Sam, I'd expect the attitude from _him_," she nodded at Dean before returning her attention to Sam, "But _you_?"

Sam gave her a look that indicated his reason for hating her should be obvious, "You shot me."

"She shot you?" Michelle turned to look at Sam, her eyes squinting as though she were trying to see where.

"She shot him," Dean confirmed.

Bela rolled her eyes, "I barely _grazed _you," she looked at Dean, nodding her head towards Sam, "Cute, but a bit of a drama queen, yeah?"

"You do know what's going on around here," Dean half-asked her, "This ghost ship thing, it _is_ real."

"I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved by the way."

"It isn't."

"She didn't _know_ that," Bela put her hands on her hips in irritation, "Now the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some _real_ answers. Look, just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. And I'd get to that car if I were you, before they find the arsenal in the trunk," she turned to walk away, throwing a "Ciao!" over her shoulder as she did.

"Can I shoot her?" Michelle asked as they watched her go.

"Get in line," Dean commented.

"No one's shooting anyone," Sam ordered, before pausing a moment in thought, "In public."

~8~

The next day another on-land drowning had occurred. Sam, Dean, and Michelle were making their way towards the home of the victim's brother, only to see Bela standing outside with the man, dressed as a reporter and holding an interview. Rolling their eyes they strode up to her, Dean grabbing her arm while Sam and Michelle held up their badges.

"Ma'am I think this man's been through quite enough," Dean chastised, pulling her arm and tape recorder away from the man's face.

"You should go," Michelle added.

"But I just have a few more questions," she pleaded, though her eyes were glaring at them.

Sam glared back, "No, you don't."

She looked at the three of them and weighed her options. Clearly they were not in her favor. She turned to the man, Peter, and smiled softly, "Thank you for your time," she cast one more glare at the trio before walking off in a huff.

Michelle turned to the man, plastering on a sympathetic smile, "Sorry you had to deal with that."

Dean lifted an eyebrow at her before glancing at Sam, who just smirked.

"They're like roaches," Dean added, quite a bit louder than needed, making sure Bela could hear as she left.

Sam led Peter towards the house, "So, uh, we heard you say your brother saw a ship."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, that's right."

"Did he tell you what it looked like?" Dean asked, walking up alongside them.

Peter stopped walking and turned to face the group, "It was, uh...like the old Yankee clippers. A smuggling vessel, with the rakish topsail, a Barkentine rigging, angel figurehead on the bow..."

"That's a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw," Sam commented.

"My brother and I were night diving, I saw the ship, too."

Michelle looked up to see Bela standing a ways down the street, talking to two police officers, glancing in their direction a few times. She cleared her throat and nudged Sam, indicating to look in Bela's direction. He did, as did Dean who saw the exchange.

"Uh, alright, well, we'll be in touch," Sam said hastily.

"Thank you," Dean added as they walked past him and in the opposite direction of the cops.

~8~

Sam and Dean were standing behind the Impala, loading their guns, Michelle kneeling on the ground, rummaging through her bag for her own weapons and ammo.

"I see you got your car back," Bela said as she came up behind them.

Dean glanced over his shoulder and lifted his gun, still loading it, "Do you really want to come near me when I've got a loaded gun in my hands?"

"Now, now, mind your blood pressure," she said nonchalantly, as though a gun was not being held in front of her face, "Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat."

"That guy back there saw the ship," Sam explained.

The brothers tossed their guns into the trunk, waiting for Michelle to finish with her bag.

"Yeah?" Bela shook her head, "And?"

"And he's going to die, so we have to save him," Michelle continued, zipping up the bag and tossing it in the trunk, slamming it shut.

"How sweet," she smirked.

"You think this is funny?" Dean said seriously.

"He's cannon fodder," she rolled her eyes, "He can't be saved in time and you know it."

Dean looked from his brother to Michelle, both of whom were shaking their heads at the woman. They turned around and headed towards the Impala's doors.

"Yeah, well, see, we have _souls_, so we're gonna_ try_," Dean commented, opening the driver's door as Sam and Michelle got in on the passenger's side.

"Well, I'm actually gonna find the ship and put an end to this," she called after them, "But you have fun."

Michelle, already in the backseat, glanced out the windows to see both Sam and Dean hesitate by their doors. She turned to glare at Bela through the back window. When Bela glanced at her she flipped her off, smirking at Bela's offended look.

She could see Dean walk towards Bela, Bela plastering on a false cocky grin as he did so.

"Hey, Bela, how'd you get like this, huh?" Dean glared at her, "What, did daddy not give you enough hugs or something?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "Your daddy give you enough?" Dean just smirked and nodded, earning a glare from Bela, "Don't you dare look down your nose at me, you're not better than I am."

"We _help _people."

"Come on," she rolled her eyes, "You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, _I_ get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me, which is healthier?"

"Hey!" Michelle called, half-kicking her door open and pushing herself out of the car, storming over to Bela, "You don't know shit about any of us. So why don't you back the fuck off and go finish harping on grieving families and soulless clients, huh?"

"Oh, you think I don't know you?" Bela raised an eyebrow at her, "Everyone knows the Winchester boys and their no-show dad."

Michelle held up a hand to stop Sam from interrupting her, "You think you know them, fine. But you don't know _me_."

"Don't I?" she smirked.

Michelle glared, "Try me."

If possible, Bela's smirk grew, "Let me guess," she looked up as though in thought before facing Michelle again, "Mommy and daddy were workaholics, ignored you and spoiled your siblings. Then, during your rebellious years you get into a lot of shit. I don't know what, sex, drugs, rock and roll. Either way you end up in some two-bit club hanging out with a bad crowd, and not just drug bad, demon bad. Witchcraft bad. You summon something you can't control and it kills your family. You turn over a new leaf, going out into the world to rid it of the baddies that destroyed your family but you still can't get over the guilt of it being all your fault your family's dead. Am I close?"

Michelle glared at her for a minute before bursting out laughing. Sam and Dean exchanged slightly worried glances, fearful that she had snapped, tensing incase she decided to kill Bela.

Bela just eyed her curiously.

Michelle stood up, wiping a fake tear from her eye, "So far off base it's actually funny. Only child, wealthy parents, no rebellion, no hoodoo, no drugs, no sex, nada. Yeah, my parents did die, but in a _car accident_ with a _drunk driver_ of all things, no demons involved whatsoever. I hunt because I want to _help_ people, not for vengeance _or_ hate."

Bela opened her mouth to say something but Michelle took a step forward, glaring again. Bela actually stepped back.

"My turn," she looked Bela up and down quickly, "You're a bitch."

Bela laughed, trying to cover up her previous indication of fear, "Ask anyone who…"

"I'm not done yet," Michelle interrupted, "You're a selfish, manipulative bitch who uses everything she has to her advantage. You don't help people because no one helped you. You're ice, a little girl locked away in a solid steel box, walls everywhere. You let no one in," she paused, "Let me guess, daddy was a bastard, mom was just as bad. You did some shit worthy stuff in the past and you use every new job to try and run from it. You use your clients to build up connections so, one day, you can call on them and try to get out of whatever it is you did that you don't want people to know about," she looked down at Bela, who was staring at her with wide eyes, "How's that? Am I hitting close to home?"

Bela blinked and suddenly the walls that had been blasted down by Michelle's words were back.

"Bela, why don't you just leave?" Sam said, his eyes fixed on Michelle, "We've got work to do."

"Yeah," she shook her head, smirking at the boys, though her smirk lacked the usual condescension, "You're 0 for 2. Bang-up job so far."

She turned and walked away, Michelle glaring at her as she went.

Dean let out a slow whistle, drawing Michelle's attention, "Remind me _never_ to get on your bad side."

"Me either," Sam agreed.

"Sorry," she said, her glare softening till she was staring at them sheepishly, "I just…I can't _stand_ her!"

Dean laughed, "Join the club."

That seemed to break the tension enough for them to relax just a bit, getting in the car to, hopefully, stop an angry spirit.

The ride to Peter's house was mostly silent and relatively short. They pulled up to the house and shut the car off. Sam has his laptop on his lap, trying to do some research on Peter. Michelle leaned forward and placed her chin on his shoulder, reading over it.

"Anything good?" Dean asked them.

Sam shook his head, "No, not really, I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads…"

"No criminal record," Michelle added, reading the page.

"Well, a few speeding tickets."

"They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago."

"How much?" Dean asked, interested.

"112 million," Sam answered.

Dean let out a whistle, "Nice life."

"Yeah, I mean, nice, clean, above board."

"So, why did they see the ship?" Michelle spoke what was on all their minds, "Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?"

Dean shrugged, "Maybe nothing."

"There's always _something_," Sam replied.

"Hey, you!" a voice called. They looked up to see Peter crossing his driveway towards them.

Dean glanced at the two, "I think we've been made."

They quickly got out of the Impala and moved around it to stand before Peter, who did _not_ look happy to see them, "What are you guys doing? You watching me?"

"Sir, calm down, please," Michelle started as they made their way towards him at the gate to his home.

"You guys aren't cops! Not dressed like _that_. Not…not in that crappy car."

"Whoa, hey," Dean defended, "No need to get nasty."

"Look, we _are_ cops, ok?" Sam emphasized, "We're undercover, we're here because we think you're in danger."

Peter glanced at them suspiciously, "From who?"

"If you just settle down," Michelle began calmly, "We'll talk about it."

"Look, you guys just stay away from me!" he shouted, turning around and running towards his car.

"Wait!" Sam called after him, but Peter ignored him and got in his car.

"Hey, moron, we're trying to help you!" Dean shouted.

Peter just backed off down his driveway, when his car suddenly died.

"That _can't_ be good," Dean commented.

"No," Michelle agreed.

"Get the salt gun!" Sam shouted.

Dean raced back to the car for the gun as Sam and Michelle tried to get the gate open. Not even a minute later they managed to pry the gate open enough to squeeze through. They ran towards the car, Dean fast behind them, and could see Peter struggling with something through the windows.

Sam ran to the driver's side of the car, "Peter!" he yelled as he leaned over to look through the window. He could see Dean arrive on the other side, Michelle in front of the car.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, motioning for him to move as he readied his gun. Sam quickly moved to Michelle's side, allowing Dean to shoot through the passenger's side window, blasting a ghostly figure away. As soon as it disappeared, Sam and Michelle were running towards the other side of the car, pulling the driver's door open, and getting Peter out. Sam reached out and felt for a pulse but found none. Dean slammed his fist against the car. Peter was dead and there was one angry ghost on the loose.

~8~

Driving down the highway, listening to the radio, did nothing to lighten the mood for the trio after the incident with Peter.

"As a severe weather front is heading in from the northwest. Expect heavy lightning and thunder with sudden rainfall…"

Dean quickly shut off the radio, leaning back in the driver's seat as they continued on their drive, "Do you want to say it, or should I?" he asked them.

Sam and Michelle looked at him, confused.

"What?" Sam asked his brother.

"You can't save everybody, Sam," he answered.

"Yeah, right," Sam mumbled before looking at his brother, "So…so, what? You feel better now or what?"

"No, not really."

"Me neither," Michelle added.

Dean sighed, "But you gotta understand…"

"It's just, lately, I feel like I can't save _anybody_," Sam interrupted.

"Sam…" Michelle began but Sam just shook his head and stared out the window in defeat. Michelle leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the roof of the Impala.

~8~

The next day would find Sam sitting at a table, in front of a fireplace, in an abandoned house, reading a book. The table was covered in a number of other books. Michelle was lying on her back on the floor, her knees bent, reading one of the other books while Dean sat on a chair by a small coffee table with his feet up, just fiddling with his phone.

There was a knock at the door.

Dean grabbed his gun and got up to answer it. He looked through the peephole to see Bela standing on the other side. He looked back at Sam and Michelle. Sam looked up at him, moving to hold his gun under the table, ready for anything. Michelle, on the other hand, was less subtle. She'd barely even flinched when the knock sounded and hadn't looked over at all, however she grabbed a gun from somewhere on her person and was just pointing it at the door with one hand. Dean smirked and unlocked the door, pulling it open to let Bela in.

Bela's gaze immediately flickered to Michelle, aiming her gun at her, before she cleared her throat and looked around the room, "Dear God...are you actually squatting?" she crossed the room, running her finger along one of the many dust covered items, "Charming," she turned to look at the boys, deftly ignoring Michelle, "So, how did things go last night with Peter?"

Sam glared at her, not answering. Michelle just cocked the gun, which had been trained on and followed Bela since she entered though she had yet to look up from her book. Dean walked up behind her, glaring as she glanced at him.

"That well, huh?"

"If you say 'I told you so,' I swear to God, I'll start swinging," Dean threatened.

"Look, I think the…" she hesitated, "…four…of us should have a heart-to-heart."

"That's assuming you have a heart."

"Dean, please…" she started, but Dean just crossed the room and sat down next to Sam. She glanced at Michelle, "I'm sorry about what I said before, ok? I come bearing gifts."

"'Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,'" Michelle quoted wisely from her place on the floor.

"I've IDed the ship," Bela continued, ignoring her.

Dean and Sam looked at each other as Michelle slowly lowered the gun and sat up. She could tell the boys were frustrated they hadn't figured it out first. Bela just took out a picture from the folder in her hands and set it on the table. She slid it over to Dean, stepping back when Michelle rose and walked over to the table to stand behind the brothers and look at the picture too.

"It's the Espirito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel," Bela explained, eyeing them, "Quite a colorful history. In 1859 a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged, he was..."

"37?" Michelle guessed. Bela looked up, startled, she thought she'd figured _everything_ out. She just nodded.

"Which would explain the 37-year cycle," Sam added.

Bela rolled her eyes and smirked at Sam, back on track, "Aren't you a sharp tack?" she reached into the folder and searched around a bit, "There's a photo of him somewhere...here."

She slid the picture to Dean who picked it up for the others to see, "Isn't that the customer we saw last night?" he looked over at Sam.

In the picture was the same ghost from the car, a sailor.

"You saw him?" Bela asked.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, that's him, except he was missing a hand."

"His right hand."

"How did you know?" Sam glanced at her suspiciously.

"The sailor's body was cremated but not before they cut off his hand to make a…"

"Hand of Glory," Michelle finished. Bela glared at her, frustrated that the girl was repeatedly stealing her thunder.

"A Hand of Glory?" Dean smirked and shot a smug look at Bela, "I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week."

Bela just rolled her eyes, causing Dean's smirk to fall.

"The right hand of a hanged man is a _serious_ occult object," Michelle explained, "It's very powerful."

"So they say," Bela commented.

Dean sighed, realizing what it meant, "And officially counts as remains."

"But still none of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims," Sam added.

"I'll tell you why," Bela began, but then smirked, "Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing."

"I don't get it," Dean narrowed his eyes at her, "Why are you telling us all this?"

"Because I know exactly where the hand is."

Dean glanced at Sam, "Where?"

"At the Sea Pines Museum, as a macabre bit of maritime history," she hesitated, "But I need help."

Sam narrowed his eyes this time, "What kind of help?"

Bela just smiled at them, "The help of two dashing young men," she looked over at Michelle, "Guess you'll have to sit this one out dear."

~8~

That night made for a very, _very_ uncomfortable Sam who was heading towards the bar, trying to escape his date for the night. Bela had informed them that an event was being held at the Sea Pines Maritime Museum that night and that it would be the perfect opportunity to get in and get the hand. She had an invite from Gertie, but _only_ if she could get Sam to be the old woman's date, which he had reluctantly agreed to. That left Dean with Bela and Michelle to do some more research on the ghost, something Michelle was not happy with. Though, instead of going at Bela for round two, she simply stood up, grabbed her jacket, and walked out of the house. Sam desperately hoped she would at least call him or something at some point that night to give him an excuse to leave Gertie.

He'd only been there not even five minutes and the old woman had tried to grope him numerous times, "Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?" he asked Dean as he walked up to him and Bela.

Bela smirked, "As long as it takes."

"Look, there's security all over this place, alright?" Dean said quietly, "This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation, so…"

"We can crash anything Dean," Sam reminded him, already knowing that this was Dean's way of torturing him.

"Yeah, I know," Dean shrugged, "But this is easier, and it's a lot more entertaining."

That was all the confirmation he needed, "You know there are limits to what I'll do, right?"

"Aw, he's playing hard-to-get," Dean laughed, "That's cute," he turned to Bela, nodding towards the other end of the room, "Come on," he started to walk off with Bela, but not before looking over his shoulder at Sam, "I want all the details in the morning."

Sam just watched them leave uncomfortably, growing more antsy as he saw Gertie approaching him with two glasses of champagne. She pushed one right in front of his face so he couldn't help but notice it. He grimaced as he took the glass from her.

"To us!" Gertie lifted her glass, clinking it with his before taking a sip. Sam nodded, downing the glass in one gulp as Gertie watched on intently, "Oh, dear…" she looked around and pulled a glass of champagne off a passing waiter's plate, giving it to Sam.

He glanced at the second glass, then Gertie, hoping to high hell that she wasn't _trying_ to get him drunk enough to do anything…not that that would EVER happen.

Gertie watched him take a sip before she looked around the hall, pointing out various people to Sam and giving him a rundown of who they were and what they did.

Sam rolled his eyes, about to take a larger gulp, when he saw someone enter the room. His jaw literally dropped and he was pretty sure his eyes almost bulged out of his skull when he saw her.

There, in the doorway, was Michelle, dressed as elegantly as anyone else, yet standing out in her simple beauty. She was wearing a simple, but elegant, black halter dress with a shirred skirt that went down to her knees and simple high heeled shoes. Her hair was down and falling in waves around her face. He could see her looking around, as uncomfortable in her dress as he and Dean felt in their suits, and felt his heart skip a beat when her gaze connected with his. She smiled at him and raised a hand as a small wave. He couldn't move though to return it as he could only stare and watch as she walked across the room to where his brother was talking with Bela. He could see Dean casting a glance at the approaching Michelle, he'd clearly seen her as well.

~8~

Dean and Bela were mingling near the entrance, eyeing the security guards, trying to figure out how to get past them to get to where the hand was held. They were both taking their own notes on the men, when Dean noticed someone enter the room, Michelle.

"How the hell did she get in?" he muttered, watching as Michelle looked around the room, her gaze landing on someone. Dean followed her gaze to see her staring at his brother. He smirked, he could so see that, if his brother hadn't been a bit smitten with the girl before, he was sure a hell of a lot more smitten now. He allowed himself to give her the onceover as he saw her catch his eyes as well and head over in their direction.

He'd thought of laying on the charm when they first met, who could blame him. Hot chick riding around in his car, staying in their hotel room? It was like a continuous strand of one night stands! But after the first actual _hunt_ with her, when they'd been standing in that kitchen with Sam, trying to pick the lock for Cinderella, he realized he looked at her almost like a sister than a possible one night stand. The way she took over protecting Sam when he went after the ghost, it was almost reassuring in a way, like when he was down in the pit, there would still be someone to look after Sam for him. And if Sam and Michelle happened to get together before that, he would know that Sam would, eventually, be happy again.

"Private security?" Bela's voice cut in, pulling Dean's attention away from the approaching Michelle, clearly Bela hadn't noticed the girl.

"I don't think so," he shook his head, "Look at the way they're standing…they're…"

"They're pros," Michelle cut in, walking up to them, "Probably state troopers moonlighting."

Dean nodded as she confirmed what he was thinking, "How'd you get in?" he asked her as Bela glared at the woman.

Michelle smirked, "You'd be surprised how easy it is to walk up to a guard and say 'my date took me out here to show me something 'magical' and then he disappeared, he had my ticket too!'"

Dean laughed, "That's one way to do it."

Michelle nodded, casting a glance at Bela, before looking back at Dean, "I'll be around, wouldn't want to disrupt your plotting. I'll be waiting if you need a diversion or something."

He nodded, watching as she walked off and soon got lost in the crowd.

"They're posted to every door," Bela got back to the topic at hand.

Dean cleared his throat and resumed his 'plotting' as Michelle had put it.

~8~

Michelle watched from the side as Bela faked a faint and was carried upstairs by Dean. She smirked, she did have to admit the girl was good. She had made sure when she first arrived that none of the occupants were demons before making her way through the crowd. She had watched until Dean and Bela disappeared upstairs before returning her attention her main focus, Sam. It was hysterical to watch him trying to avoid Gertie and failing. It was also pretty funny to watch the old woman practically throw herself at him. The different shades of red that he turned would forever be ingrained in her mind.

Though, after a good number of dances where Gertie tried to feel him up, she felt he'd suffered enough and deserved a break from the wild cougar.

She carefully made her way through the crowd and onto the dance floor just as a song was ending. She could see Gertie with her arms around Sam's neck, sliding them all over him, "Mmm, you're just firm all over," she heard the woman murmur.

She had to shudder a bit at that, not feeling that comfortable with the old woman feeling him up either.

"Ma'am?" she asked, laying a hand on Gertie's shoulder. Gertie lifted her head off of Sam's chest and giggled a bit, turning to look up at Michelle, "Ms. Case, would you mind if I cut in for a dance."

Gertie looked torn, nearly glaring at her, but smiled, "Everyone wants a piece of him it seems," she hummed before reaching out and patting Michelle's cheek, "Only _one_ dance dear."

"Of course," she promised, "I would never want to deprive you of your date for too long."

Gertie seemed satisfied with that answer and walked off to get herself another champagne. Michelle glanced at Sam, reaching out to straighten his crooked bowtie.

"Thank you," Sam whispered, holding out a hand for her to take. He pulled her to him gently, placing a hand on her hip as she placed one on his shoulder, "_Really_, thank you."

She smiled softly, "No problem, you needed a break."

He smiled as well, they didn't speak for the rest of the dance, only enjoyed each other's company. Though by the end, somehow, Michelle found herself with her head lying on Sam's shoulder, his arms around her waist. She smiled to herself, shifting her head to rest her forehead on his chest before pulling away. She glanced out at the crowd for a moment before looking up at Sam, "I think I should make my exit," she whispered to him before nodding off to the side, "Before your date kills me."

Sam followed her gaze to see Ms. Case standing there, a tense smile on her face as she watched them dance. From the way she was gripping her champagne glass, she was _not_ a happy camper. Sam dropped his head onto Michelle's shoulder, groaning, "Save me."

Michelle laughed, stepping away from him just as the song ended and made her way out to the crowd just as Ms. Case appeared at Sam's side.

~8~

For some reason, watching Gertie and Sam resume their little date, more specifically watching Gertie repeatedly try to feel up Sam and get into his pants, bothered Micjelle a lot more than it did before _she'd_ shared the dance with him. She found herself fixated on them the entire night rather than working on that diversion she'd promised Dean as a failsafe.

Luckily it didn't seem like the diversion would be needed as Dean and Bela walked down the stairs, calm as ever, and over to where Sam was leading a very tipsy Gertie off the dance floor. Seeing this, Michelle quickly made her way over to them.

"He wants me," she heard Gertie say quietly to Bela to which she blanched. Though she was pretty sure she heard Sam gag.

Gertie swayed a bit and Bela reached out to hold her up, she glanced at Michelle, "I'm going to get Gert into a cold shower."

"Great idea," Sam said quickly, all too happy about getting the woman as far away from him as possible.

"See you at the cemetery," Bela called as she walked off.

Michelle and Sam's brow furrowed at her words while Dean just checked his inner pocket.

He glanced over at Sam, smirking, "You stink like sex."

~8~

"You got it, right?" Michelle asked as she slid into the Impala's backseat.

Sam looked at his brother, trying to undo his bowtie, "Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Haversham for nothing."

"I got it," Dean stated before looking at his brother, "Mrs. who?"

Sam sighed, "Never mind, just let me see it."

Dean pulled out his handkerchief but as soon as it was in his hand a funny look came upon his face, he quickly started to unwrap it.

Sam stopped fiddling with his bowtie at his brother's frantic actions, "What?"

Michelle watched for a moment before something dawned on her, "She didn't…"

Dean unwrapped the last bit of the cloth and saw a small bottle of a miniature clipper ship in his hand. It wasn't lost on either Michelle or Sam what had just happened, Bela had stolen the hand and switched it with the ship in a bottle. Sam's eyes widened as Michelle just let her head flop back onto the seat.

Dean glared at the bottle, "I'm gonna kill her."

"We can't kill her," Michelle said regretfully, "She's the only one who knows where the hand is."

~8~

Back in the abandoned house, Dean was still staring at the bottle in the light from the candles set up around the room, "You know what?" he turned to look at Michelle, who was sitting next to Sam at the desk, "You're right, I'm not gonna kill her. I think slow torture's the way to go," he placed the bottle on the mantel of the fireplace and walked over to the table.

Sam sighed and closed the folder he was looking at, "Dean, look, you gotta relax…"

"Relax?" Dean shouted, "Oh, yeah, yeah, I'll relax. I can't believe she got another one over on us!"

"You," Michelle corrected.

He turned around to glare at her, but she merely looked back at him unphased, "What?"

"She got one over on _you_, not _us_," she repeated.

Dean glared at her a moment before stepping back and throwing his hands in the air, "Thank you! That's very helpful!"

There was a knock at the door but before either of them could get up, Bela called from the other side, "Hello, could you open up?"

Dean glanced at the two in disbelief before crossing the room with wide strides and yanked the door open. Sam, who had gone over as well, slammed a hand on the wall and leaned over to glare at the woman. Michelle remained sitting at the table, though she too was glaring.

"Just let me explain," Bela said, "I sold it," she walked over to the small coffee table Dean was sitting at earlier and sat down. Dean was immediately beside her with a hand on the back of her chair and the table, trapping her. She sighed, "I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed."

Dean glanced at Sam, who was leaning against the mantel, his arms crossed over his chest. Michelle had yet to move from the table, though she crossed her arms as well and a gun now rested on the table before her. Dean walked behind Bela, miming shooting her in the head with his finger.

"So, the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was..." Sam began, he was really set on the whole 'Gertie tried to rape me' thing.

"I needed a cover, you were convenient," she admitted.

"Look, you sold it to a buyer, just go buy it back," Dean told her.

"It's halfway across the ocean, I can't get it back in time."

"In time for _what_?" Michelle called. Bela glanced at her before lowering her eyes, a slightly frightened look in her eyes. Michelle raised an eyebrow, sensing what had happened, "What's wrong, Bela? You look like you've seen a _ghost_."

"…I saw the ship."

"You what?" Dean stared at her but she just sat there. They all exchanged a look, "Huh, wow, you know, I knew you were an immoral, thieving, con-artist bitch, but _just_ when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower..."

"What are you talking about?" Bela looked at them.

"We figured out the spirit's motive," Michelle told her.

Sam turned to Michelle, who handed the folder to him. He pulled out some old photos and handed one to Bela. It was of a sailor who looked strikingly similar to the ghost.

"This is the captain of our ship, the one who hung our ghost boy," Sam explained.

"So?" she shook her head.

Sam threw the picture down in front of her, "So, they were _brothers_, very Cain and Abel. So, now our spirit, he's going after a very specific kind of target. People who've spilled their own family's blood. See, first, there was Sheila, who killed her cousin in a car accident, and the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance, and now you."

"Oh my God," Bela breathed.

"So, who was it, Bela?" Dean demanded, "Hmm? Who'd you kill? Was it daddy? Your little sis, maybe?"

Michelle shook her head, "I was right. Daddy was a bastard, wasn't he?"

Bela glared at them, "It's none of your business."

"No, right," Dean nodded, stepping back and allowing her a path to the door, "Well, have a nice life, you know, whatever's left of it," he patted her on the back, looking over to Sam, "Sam, let's go."

Bela stood, "You can't just_ leave_ me here."

Michelle stood as well, "Watch us."

"Please," she looked back and forth between them all, "I need your _help_!"

"Our help?" Dean asked in disbelief. He stopped his packing and walked over to her, "Well, now, how could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?"

"Ok, that was a bit harsh, I admit it, but it doesn't warrant a death sentence."

Sam looked at her, half in shock, half in disgust, "That's not why you're gonna die. What did you do, Bela?"

"You wouldn't understand, no one did," she muttered. She looked at them for a moment, trying to see if they were bluffing, but they were stone faced, "Never mind, I'll just do what I've always done. I'll deal with it myself."

She turned to go when Dean called out to her, "You do realize you just sold the only thing that could save your life."

She stopped and slowly turned to look at them, "I'm aware."

Michelle glanced at Sam, the two of them sharing a look. After a moment, Michelle nodded. "Well," Sam sighed, "Maybe not the _only_ thing."

Dean looked between the two, staring at Sam, slightly confused.

~8~

As soon as the full moon had risen, the gang made their way to the cemetery. Sam and Michelle were setting up for the ritual. Michelle had just finished drawing a pentagram on the ground and placing and lit candles at each of the five points as Sam poured a liquid into a bowl and placed a lock of hair in the middle of the pentagram. They backed away from it. Sam nodded at Michelle, who grabbed her gun and went to join Dean and Bela leaning against some headstones, Dean gripping his own gun.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Bela asked Dean.

"Almost definitely not," he said, completely serious.

Thunder cracked in the distances as clouds began to form under the moon. Rain started to pour, a good indication that things were about to get very supernatural. Dean pushed off the headstone and moved to stand closer to Bela while Michelle readied her gun and kept her gaze on the area.

"Sammy, you better start reading," Dean called.

Sam nodded and began the ritual, "Aziel, Castiel, Lameniel, Raboc, Erly et Belam ego vos coniuro per deum verum, per deum vivum…"

The rest of Sam's chanting was obscured by the sound of the wind picking up. The candles blew out, the ghost was there.

Dean turned to Bela, "Stay close!"

Suddenly the ghost appeared just behind Dean.

"Dean!" Michelle shouted, unable to shoot as the ghost was in direct alignment with Dean and rock salt bullets could be mighty painful to the living as well.

Dean spun around and tried to shoot the ghost, but was flung away by the spirit's power. He hit a large grave marker and fell to the ground. The ghost turned and tried to grab Bela's face but Michelle ran to the side, getting a different angle on the ghost and took a shot. The ghost burst apart, but not before Bela started to choke and cough up water.

Dean scrambled next to Bela and held her while she started coughing more violently, drowning.

"Sammy, read faster!" he shouted.

Michelle felt a cold chill and turned to see the ghost standing behind her. She readied the gun but didn't fire as Sam finished the incantation. The clouds parted and the rain stopped.

The ghost turned around and saw the ghost of the captain of the ship standing before him, "You…hanged me!" the ghost shouted.

"I'm sorry," the captain said.

"Your own _brother_!"

"I'm _so_ sorry."

Suddenly the ghost lunged at the captain and they both disappeared in a wave of water, just as Bela stopped drowning.

~8~

The next morning, having destroyed the ghost, it was time to leave. The Winchester brothers and Michelle were packing their bags when Bela walked in.

"You guys should learn to lock your doors," she commented, stopping before them, "Anyone could just barge in."

"Anyone just did," Michelle commented, glaring up at her, "Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?"

Bela frowned, "I've come to settle affairs," she pulled out three bound wads of money from her bag, "Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother, very clever, Sam. So, here."

"Wasn't me," he said, "Michelle came up with the idea, next best thing. I just knew a ritual that could do it."

Bela threw each of them a wad of cash, ignoring Sam's last remark, "Its 15,000 dollars, that should cover it," they all just looked at her blankly, "I don't like being in anyone's debt."

"So, ponying up 15 grand is easier for you than a simple 'thank you?'" Dean shook his head, "You're so damaged."

"Takes one to know one. Goodbye all," she walked out the door without even a backwards glance.

"She got style, you gotta give her that," Sam commented.

"I supposed," Dean shrugged, flipping through his wad of money.

"You know Dean," Michelle called, zipping her bag and standing up, "We don't know where this money's been."

"No," he agreed, before snatching the wad of cash from Sam and Michelle's hands, "But I know where it's going."

~8~

"Seriously?" Sam asked as he tried to read the map that night, Michelle leaning over him with a flashlight as Dean drove, "Atlantic City?"

"Hell yeah," Dean cheered, excited, "Play some roulette, always bet on black…" he trailed off, pausing in thought before speaking again, this time more seriously than Michelle ever heard him speak without being angry, "Hey, listen. I've been doing some thinking, and, um, I want you to know...I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the Crossroads Demon. You know, if the situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing. I mean, I'm not blind. I see what you're going through with this whole deal, me going away and all that…but you're gonna be okay."

"You think so?" Sam asked, strained.

"Yeah, you'll keep hunting," Dean said as though he was imagining what life would be like after he left, "You know, you'll live your life. You're stronger than me, you are. You are, you'll get over it. But I want you to know I'm sorry. I'm sorry for putting you through all this, I am."

"You know what, Dean?" Sam cut in, growing angry, "Go screw yourself."

"What?" Dean's head snapped to stare at his brother.

"I don't want an apology from you. And by the way, I'm a big boy now, I can take care of myself."

"Oh, well, excuse me," Dean rolled his eyes.

"So would you please quit worrying about me?" Sam turned to look at his brother, "That's the whole problem in the first place! I don't _want_ you to worry about me, Dean. I want you to worry about _you_, I want you to give a crap that you're dying!"

Michelle reached out a hand and squeezed Sam's shoulder in an effort to calm him down. Sam released a breath and unconsciously started relaxing.

Dean was silent for a moment, staring out at the road ahead of him, a small smile on his lips at the action.

"So, that's it?" Sam asked, though much quieter than his previous rant, "Nothing else to say for yourself?"

Dean shook his head, "No matter what you say Sam, I'm your brother, even if I'm dead and in the ground I'm _still_ going to worry about you but…" he glanced out of the corner of his eye at Michelle, "I _know_ you'll be ok," Sam opened his mouth to say something else but Dean just continued, "I think maybe I'll play craps."

Sam just looked at him, completely in disbelief that he just changed the subject. He sighed and shook his head. He leaned back into the seat as Michelle reached out her other hand to his other shoulder and gave him a small neck massage. He glanced over his shoulder at her, an appreciative smile on his face, before turning off the flashlight and closing his eyes.

Dean's smile grew. Yes, his brother would be ok without him, especially if he had Michelle with him.

A/N: And we've got a shift in the Michelle-Dean dynamic. She's no longer potential 'tail' for him, but on her way to being seen as family :) And really, being in such life-or-death situations on a daily basis would definitely cause some sort of close relationship to form. Speaking of close relationships...we've also got the beginnings of the Sam/OC promised in the story's summary. The main reason I wanted Michelle to come in at Season 3 is because I really felt like Sam needed someone there for him while dealing with Dean, and this would be the perfect time to build something new, knowing you might be losing something old. We'll definitely see Sam and Michelle's relationship start to pick up.

BTW...did you like the little Bela-Michelle showdown? I always wanted _someone_ to give it to Bela for that serial killer comment, and Michelle is definitely a fire cracker when she needs to be. And if there's one thing her mother taught her as an anthropologist, it's how to read people. How close was she to calling Bela out on who she truly was? Pretty close in my opinion :)


	5. Fresh Blood

Fresh Blood

Sam, Dean, and Michelle ran over to the prone form lying on the ground just inside an alley. Sam and Michelle immediately knelt at the man's side, Sam pressing a cloth against the wound bleeding profusely from the man's neck as Michelle squatted beside him, what looked like a tranquilizer/dart gun in her hand. Dean stood next to them, looking both ways up and down the alley.

"Hey, hey, don't worry," Sam tried to calm the barely conscious man, "We're gonna call you some help, ok?"

"Where is she?" Dean asked, "Where'd she go?"

The man struggled to lift his arm, flinging it in a direction down the alley. Dean glanced at Michelle, who nodded, readying her tranquilizer gun and keeping an eye out for the vampire they were tracking, while Sam worked on helping the man. Seeing his brother protected, Dean took off down the alley in pursuit of the vampire.

Michelle continued to glance back and forth between the alley and Sam for the next few minutes until Sam declared the man alright, though unconscious. He stood up, reaching out a hand to help Michelle stand before they both ran after Dean.

They caught sight of him just as the woman bit his neck and his stabbed with a syringe full of red liquid. She crashed to the ground, convulsing, until she fell unconscious. Sam looked at the girl for a moment before frowning at Dean. Michelle put her tranquilizer gun on the ground and pulled a length of rope from her messenger bag, getting to work on tying the girl up.

"What?" Dean asked his brother, catching the look, as he pressed his hand to the bite on his neck.

"Cutting it a little close, don't you think?" Sam countered.

"Ah, that's just chum in the water," Dean shrugged, looking down at the empty syringe, "Worked, didn't it?" he stepped over to Michelle, who stood from finishing her rope work, moving to put her tranq. gun away, "Neat trick," he nodded at the gun, handing her the syringe.

She smirked at him, putting it in a case with two other similar syringes and placing it in her bag, "Was my mom's idea," she commented, "She originally laced the arrows for her crossbow with Dead Man's Blood whenever we had a suspected nest to take out. I just embellished that idea, used tranquilizer darts."

"Your mom had a crossbow?" Sam eyed her.

"To each his own," she shrugged.

Dean turned to Sam, "Why didn't _you_ think of using a dart gun?"

Sam looked at his brother, his mouth open, trying to find a retort to that, but just sighed, "We better get her out of here before the paramedics arrive," he walked over to the vampire and lifted her over his shoulder, walking down the alley with Dean and Michelle following.

~8~

The dingy hotel room was almost pitch-black thanks to the old mattresses placed against the windows, blocking out the sunlight. The vampire was tied to a chair in the middle of the room with Sam and Dean circling her, Michelle sitting on a small dresser, Sam's laptop on her lap.

"You with us?" Dean asked as the woman began to moan, waking up. She began struggling against the bonds, looking up at them half in fear, half in anger, "Oh, yeah, sorry. You're not going anywhere."

"Where's your nest?" Sam paused to stand before her.

"What?" the woman looked between the two, confused.

"Your nest...where you and your bloodsucking pals hang out," Dean stopped before her as well.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Please! I don't feel good."

Sam stepped back, sensing his brother wanted to do his thing, "Yeah, well, you're gonna feel a hell of a lot worse if we give you another shot of Dead Man's Blood."

"Just let me go," she begged.

"Yeah, you know we can't do that," Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm telling you the truth! I'm just...I took something. I'm freaking out! I don't know what's going on!"

"You _took_ something?" Michelle called from the other side of the room, standing up to put the laptop on the dresser, and walking over to them.

"Yes!" she said frantically, struggling more against the bonds, "I can't...come down. I just want to come down."

"What's your name?"

"Lucy. Please, just let me go."

Sam glanced at the other two before looking at their hostage, "Alright, Lucy, how about this? If you tell us what happened, we'll let you go."

"You will?" she looked up at Dean and then Michelle, who nodded, though she didn't catch Dean's confused glance at Sam, "Uh, I don't really...um, it's not that clear. I was at Spider."

"Spider?" Sam squinted his eyes in confusion.

"The club on Jefferson. And there was this guy...he was buying me drinks."

"This guy..." Michelle cut in, "What's he look like?"

"He was old, like thirty," Lucy replied, Dean rolled his eyes, being nearer to thirty than the other occupants of the room, "He had brown hair, a leather jacket...Deacon or Dixon or something. Said he was a dealer...he had something for me."

"Something?" Sam shot an alarmed look at Michelle, who seemed to be thinking the same thing he was.

Lucy nodded, "Something new. 'Better than anything you've ever tried.' He put a few drops in my drink."

"Was the drug red and thick?" Michelle guessed.

Lucy nodded again.

"Well, genius move there!" Dean half-shouted, "That was vampire blood he dosed you with."

"What?" she asked in disbelief.

"You just took a big shot of the nastiest virus out there."

Sam and Michelle stepped back to the laptop and quietly began discussing their options.

Lucy shook her head violently, struggling more with her bonds, "You're crazy! He gave me roofies or something! No...the next thing I know, we're at his place, and he says he's gonna get me something to eat, just wait. But I get so _hungry_."

"So you busted out?" Dean ventured.

She nodded, "But it won't wear off...whatever he gave me..."

"Lights are too bright? Sunshine hurt your skin?"

"Yeah...and smells. And I can...hear blood pumping."

"I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but your blood's never pumping again."

"Not mine...yours. I can hear a heart beating from half a block away. I just want it to stop."

"It's not going to stop. You've already killed two people...almost three."

Lucy's eyes widened in fear, "No, I...I couldn't. I was hallucinating!"

"You killed them, alright?" Dean glared at her, clearly becoming annoyed, "We've been following a sloppy trail of corpses, and it leads straight to you."

"No, no, it wasn't real!" she continued to frantically shake her head, "It was the drug! Please! Please, you have to help me!"

Sam and Michelle turned from their conversation, Sam nodding towards the door to the next room. Dean got up and walked out with them, ignoring the calls from the girl not to.

"Poor girl," Sam muttered at he glanced back at her before shutting the door.

"We don't have a choice," Dean said grimly.

"Can't you…" Sam looked at Michelle.

She seemed to be thinking to herself the same thing Sam was, "I'm not sure," she sighed, "All the legends on vampires say something about the change being complete after they feed on human blood. Like with werewolves and their first lunar cycle. Before she killed I might have been able to do something but now…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean held up a hand to stop them, "What the hell are you talking about?"

Sam glanced at Michelle, a bit guilty that he had brought it up. Dean hadn't reacted all that well when he'd learned about the demon blood in Sam, anything related to the Yellow-Eyed Demon probably wasn't very good in Dean's book.

"I have powers," Michelle said bluntly, knowing how Dean felt about Sam's abilities, there was no use dancing around it, "Like Sam."

Dean stared at her, his expression growing more stone-faced.

Seeing this, Sam cleared his throat, "I'm gonna go keep an eye on Lucy," he mumbled before stepping out of the room, shutting the door behind him, not wanting to risk Dean's attention shifting to him.

"You were a special child?" Dean hissed, narrowing his eyes at Michelle.

She shook her head, "I was picked by Azazel, yeah, but my body didn't react well to the demon blood. He fled and I never saw him again, even when he started rounding up the special children to duke it out."

"How did you…"

"Bobby. I guess I was a reject. But I do have some abilities, I don't know if they were a result of the reaction or powers I already had that were just triggered because of the blood."

Dean seemed to think this over. When Azazel had rounded up the special children, he hadn't seen her there at all, alive or dead, "What can you do?" he asked her, "Any freaky psychic crap?"

Michelle rolled her eyes, "Yes Dean, I get perfect ESPN, the Mets are going to win, bet now."

"Ha ha," Dean laughed dryly, "Seriously."

Michelle let out a breath, he seemed to be taking it well so far, "It's kind of like Sam being able to exorcize demons with his mind, I can purify people. I can sort of cleanse them of demonic influences or remove demon blood from their systems. That's why my dad thought it might be powers I already had that were just sparked by the demon blood, that I must have purified myself, not that they didn't do extra purification rituals to be safe. I've never tried it on vampires though, I don't know if that would work, but it's too late to try anyway."

Dean took it in, nodding after a moment. It _did_ sound like it had been dormant powers all her own that were triggered by the blood if the ability she had was anything to go on. Still...just the thought that old yellow eyes had anything to do with it put him on edge. He glanced at the door that led to Sam and Lucy before taking up his machete. He walked back into the room.

As Lucy caught sight of the large knife she started to struggle, "No…" she begged, "Please!"

Dean acted as though he didn't hear her as he deftly decapitated her. Sam flinched at Michelle's side as she quickly reached out and took his hand, knowing he sympathized with the girl, having monster blood inside him that he didn't choose to have or want to have.

~8~

The next night, Sam, Dean, and Michelle exited the Spider club. The brothers were very frustrated, Michelle, though, was _fuming_.

"And I thought _Ohio_ was bad!" she nearly growled, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Not even Sam's arm around her shoulder seemed able to calm her down, "Those _perverts_! Urgh!"

The whole time they'd been in the club, men of every age had tried to hit on her. It got so bad that Sam had taken up the role of playing her boyfriend just to get some of them off her back. She found herself thinking, despite her anger, that she probably would have enjoyed the experience of having a 'faux beau' if it hadn't been for all the jerks. But at least there was one thing she knew she'd enjoy thinking back on later when this was over.

She'd gotten one hell of a kiss out of Sam when one particularly persistent guy didn't buy their act. She'd turned to Sam and laid one on him, making sure to kiss him until the man had walked off. When she'd finally pulled back, Sam looked a bit dazed while Dean was stunned. It had actually taken both brothers a few minutes to shake it off, with Sam blushing a shade of red formerly unknown to mankind and Dean already thinking up ways to use that against his brother.

Dean laughed at her plight, "That was a big, fat waste of time."

"Look, three blondes have gone missing, including Lucy, all last sighted here," Sam sighed, trying to help them see the necessity of checking out the club, "This is the hunting ground."

Michelle, who had been glaring at all the men in the general area, noticed a 30-something year old man ducking into an alley across the street, a young blonde woman with him. She nudged Dean and nodded towards the alley.

Dean and Sam turned to look at the man, nodding at each other before making their way down the alley. They hesitated just inside the entranceway when they noticed Michelle was no longer behind them. They turned to see her holding up a pant leg and pulling out a small tranq. gun from around her ankle. They both watched in fascination as she lifted her shirt a bit and pulled a small dart out of an elastic band with loops sewn into it Velcroed around her stomach.

She looked up as she loaded the gun to see them staring at her, their mouths open, "What?"

"What the hell?" Dean asked, trying to eye her closely and see if there were any other weapons hidden on her.

"My dad trained me well," she smirked, cocking the gun, "You have no idea how many weapons I can hide on me without it being very noticeable."

"Dean!" Sam called, snapping out of his own daze as his brother opened his mouth to, no doubt, ask her how many, "Vampire?" he reminded them.

Dean nodded, turning serious, he took a step towards the alley before turning and pointing at Michelle, "I want a demonstration later Little Miss Mickey."

Michelle ground her teeth, glaring at him, "Keep calling me that and you won't live to see the start of it Dean-o."

Dean smirked and continued on down the alley, ignoring his brother shaking his head at their antics. Sam had noticed a shift in the relationship between his brother and Michelle, Dean hadn't hit on her since they'd dealt with Callie and the fairytales-come-to-life. And, without Dean hitting on her, Michelle had relaxed more around them, not trying to kill or punch or smack Dean like she'd tried to once or twice on a few other hunts. He didn't know quite where their specific relationship was heading, he knew it wasn't heading to any sort of physical one, but he _was_ curious to where it would lead and what Michelle would become to Dean, what she would become to _him_ as well.

They caught up with the vampire just as he was about to let a drop of his blood fall onto a waiting girl's tongue. Dean quickly ran forward and grabbed the man's arm, pulling it down, punching him one in the face. Sam pulled the girl away, pushing her down the alley as Michelle trained her gun on the undead man.

"Get out of here," Sam shouted at the girl, "Go! go!"

The vampire caught sight of the gun and could smell the blood in the dart. His eyes widened as he hurled Dean into the brick wall of the alley and took off. Sam ran over to Dean as Michelle went after the vampire.

"Dean!" he shouted, helping his brother up.

"I'm good," he reassured, pushing his brother down the path Michelle had run, "Come on."

They quickly caught up with Michelle, hurtling around a corner and nearly crashing into her. They were about to ask why she was standing there with her hands in the air and no vampire in sight, when they saw Gordon, a Hunter they'd had a previous encounter with, and his partner standing across from them, their guns raised.

They suddenly opened fire, leaving the trio to duck back behind a parked car, the boys just barely avoiding getting shot. Michelle hissed as a bullet grazed her arm. Sam and Dean looked at her in concern but she just shook her head, the pain was already fading. They managed to move behind a wall, crouching down as Gordon and his partner took the opportunity to reload their guns.

"Alright," Dean turned to the two of them, "Run. I'll draw them off."

"What?" Michelle demanded.

"You're crazy!" Sam agreed.

Dean just smirked, mock saluting them, before darting out into the line of fire. He leapt onto a car and over a second-story parking lot entrance as Gordon's partner chased after him. Gordon remained behind though. Michelle and Sam could hear him cock his gun once more and the scrapping of his shoes on the ground as he walked towards them.

Just as he came into view a figure fell on him, sending him sprawling back.

Sam and Michelle leapt to their feet, seeing the vampire from before attacking. Sam quickly grabbed Michelle's hand and pulled her away from the scene while both Gordon and the vampire were distracted. If there was anyone who could handle a vampire, it was Gordon.

~8~

Sam had been pacing around the motel room ever since he and Michelle had arrived. Michelle was watching him pace intently, a small smile on her face as she tried to figure out how he hadn't worn a hole in the carpet.

"Sam," she called, sitting on the dresser with his laptop once more, "Calm down. I'm sure Dean's fine."

"But what if…" Sam began, when the door burst open and Dean entered, "There you are!" Sam shouted, rounding on his brother.

"Yeah," Dean said, unconcerned, "Sorry, I stopped for a slice."

"And you couldn't get us some?" Michelle played along, not looking up.

Sam just rolled his eyes at them, "Nice move you pulled back there, Dean, running right at the weapons."

"Well, what can I say?" he smirked, completely ignoring his brother's worry, "I'm a bad-ass. So, I guess Gordon's out of jail."

"Uh, yeah, I guess so," Sam sighed, "You know, how the hell did he know where to find us?"

Dean thought for a moment before a realization dawned on him, "That bitch!" he pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed, "Hi Bela," he turned towards the door, having a conversation with the woman that didn't sound good to either his brother or Michelle, especially when it ended with him threatening to kill her, "That bitch!" he repeated.

"Bela sold us out?" Sam guessed.

Dean just nodded.

Michelle reached to her side and took a sip of her water bottle, her attention still on the laptop, "Well isn't she just a pain in the pooper."

Both boys turned to stare at her.

After a few moments of feeling their eyes on her she looked up, "What?"

"Pain in the pooper?" Dean repeated, laughing. Sam actually looked a bit amused.

"It's a perfectly good phrase," Michelle shrugged, "And fitting."

Both boys just shook their heads at her.

~8~

Dean was sharpening his machete on a whetstone while Sam cleaned his gun, sitting beside his brother. Michelle was sitting on the floor, sharpening a thick wooden stake with a knife neither boy had seen her pull out.

"That vampire's still out there Dean," Sam commented.

"First things first," Dean instructed.

"Gordon," Michelle agreed.

"About that…" Dean leaned forward, eyeing the two of them, "When we find him, or if he finds us...I'm just saying he's not leaving us a whole lot of options."

"Yeah, I know," Sam stated, "We've got to kill him."

Dean's brow furrowed as he looked at his brother, "Really? Just like that? I thought you would have been like, 'No, we can't, he's human, it's wrong.'"

"No, I'm done," Sam shook his head, "Gordon's not gonna stop until we're dead...or till he is."

Dean was about to retort to that, when his phone began ringing. He pulled it out, scowling at the caller ID before answering. From the way he shouted at the person on the other end and began angrily speaking with them, they could only assume it was Bela.

Dean flipped the phone shut, "Ok, so Gordon's in a warehouse. Two stories, riverfront, neon sign outside."

"How did she…" Michelle started.

"No idea. Apparently ghosts also double as a GPS."

"Interesting," Sam commented.

"They also want us to leave town, run like hell, and not go after Gordon."

"Not likely," Sam finished, getting up and walking into the bathroom.

It was silent for a minute before Dean sighed.

"Something wrong?" Michelle asked, glancing up at him.

"No," he answered shortly.

Michelle put down her stake and crossed her arms at him, "You're worried that something's wrong with Sam."

He looked at her, shocked she'd been able to read him so easily, "How the hell…"

"Besides the fact that I heard you and Bobby talking about it in Ohio?" she shrugged, "You're his older brother, like you said, you're _always_ going to worry about him."

"Sam's a big boy, he can…"

"Cut the crap Dean," Michelle interrupted, "You're worried he's different since he came back, right?" Dean hesitated, looking at her for a minute before nodding in defeat, "The answer is yes, he is."

His head snapped up and he glared at her, "But you said nothing was wrong with him!"

"Nothing is _wrong_ with him," she confirmed, "But he _is_ different. Dying and being resurrected makes you different."

"How?"

"I'm not sure. But I have a theory."

"Which is?"

"When Sam died, he was trying to save all the special children, right? Well…when he died for that, maybe, when he came back, he realized he can't do that again. Caring is good in this profession, if we don't care about others we wouldn't fight so hard to save them from demons and spirits and all the other shit in the world. But caring _too much_ is bad. You care too much, you get distracted, you waste time looking for ways to save someone that don't exist, you end up endangering not only yourself but the others you're protecting. Maybe when Sam came back he realized some people _have to_ die, they have to be _stopped_, before they hurt other people."

Dean stared at her. That was, without a doubt, the longest he'd ever heard her speak before. It was also the most insightful. He'd been _terrified_ that whatever demon blood had been in Sam had taken control of his brother when he'd died, brought him back as something less than human. Even though he didn't completely believe Michelle's theory, it was…nice…reassuring even, to have a different look at it. Maybe Sam _had_ just learned a hard lesson that day and was slowly adjusting to the Hunter mentality…he didn't know. He usually hated when women were right, but now he found himself actually hoping Michelle was right about this.

~8~

It hadn't been hard to find the warehouse Bela had described, not many had neon signs posted outside their doors. Sam and Dean crept down the steps, into the warehouse, in front of Michelle. As they entered a room, they could see the bodies of two girls hanging from their wrists from the ceiling, their heads missing, with the vampire kneeling in front of them.

Dean glanced at the two before silently reaching out and taking a knife from a table next to him, slowly approaching the vampire.

"Go ahead," the vampire called, hearing Dean coming, "Do it. Kill me."

"What happened here?" Michelle asked, staring up at the bodies of the girls with her gun trained on the vampire. Sam stepped past her and moved over to inspect the bodies.

"Gordon Walker," the vampire answered, "I never should have brought a hunter here. Never. I just...I just wanted some kind of revenge. Stupid...exposing him to my family."

"Oh, yeah, you're such a family man," Dean said sarcastically.

The vampire glared over his shoulder, "You don't understand."

Dean glared right back at him, "I don't _want_ to understand, you son of…"

"I was _desperate_! You ever felt desperate? I've lost _everyone_ I ever loved. I'm staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?"

Dean hesitated a moment in thought, "Well, there's Hell."

"I wasn't thinking," he sighed, "I just...I didn't care anymore. Do you know what it's like when you just don't give a damn? It's like...it's like being dead already. So just go ahead. Do it."

"Hey!" Sam called to them, drawing their attention briefly, "Head wasn't cut off, it was _ripped _off. With someone's bare hands. Dixon, what did you do to Gordon?"

~8~

Dean wiped a rag across his machete, cleaning the vampire blood off it. Dixon's now headless corpse lay on the floor. Sam and Michelle had just finished getting the bodies down from the chains and laid them by Dixon's to burn before they headed out to find the newly made vampire, Gordon.

Sam quickly lit a match and threw it at the bodies. He glanced over at Michelle and frowned, "You ok?" he asked her, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, "You look a little green."

She gave a small smile, "Not a big fan of blood."

Dean looked at her, incredulous, "And you couldn't have told us that _before_ we went off to brutally behead a vampire?"

"I have no problem with killing vampires or demons or any other creature you throw at me," she half-glared at him, she wouldn't be a Hunter if she couldn't _deal_ with blood, "I don't have a problem with blood in general, just…that," she motioned to the splattering of blood all over the floor, "When it's _everywhere_, when it's _gruesome_."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "How the hell are you a Hunter?"

She just elbowed him in the stomach.

~8~

Dean entered the motel room, looking more frustrated than the last time he'd come in a few hours ago. He angrily pulled off his jacket and threw it on the chair closest to him.

Sam and Michelle were seated at the table, going over various maps of the area.

"Man, I must have checked three dozen motels, empty buildings, warehouses…" Dean listed.

"Yeah, us too," Sam nodded, "Big city."

Dean walked over to the sink and splashed some water on his face, "It's like a giant haystack, and Gordon's a deadly needle. We're running out of daylight. Won't have the sun slowing him down."

"Yeah, he'll be unstoppable."

"Hey," Michelle called to Dean, "Give me your phone."

"What for?" he asked, tossing it to her.

"Well, Sam said Gordon might know your cell numbers," she explained, pulling out the SIM cards from the brothers' phones, "If he does, he can use the cell signal to track you down."

"Oh…" Dean nodded, clearly not having thought of that. He glanced at Sam, feeling a little better that he looked just as thoughtful about it as him, "Thanks."

Michelle nodded before taking one of the guns and using the hilt to smash the phones. Dean walked over to the curtains and glanced out them before turning to the duo, "Sammy, stay here."

"What?" Sam looked up, "Where you going now?"

Dean pulled the Colt out of his bag and began checking it, "I'm going after Gordon."

"What?" Sam demanded.

"You heard me."

"Not alone you're not," Sam stood up, getting ready to go with him. Michelle stood as well, just more slowly.

"Sam, I don't need you to sign me a permission slip, ok? He's after _you_, not me, and he's turbocharged. I want you to stay out of harm's way," he glanced meaningfully at Michelle, who nodded. Dean gave an almost indiscernible nod at her silent agreement to keep Sam safe. He knew his brother probably didn't need it, that he was more than capable of taking care of himself, but the thought that someone would be there to watch his back eased the worry he felt as the older brother, "I'll take care of it."

"You're not going by yourself, you're gonna get killed."

"Just another day at the office."

"A massively dangerous day at the office," Michelle muttered.

"Not helping," Dean commented.

Sam just shook his head, "So you're the guy with nothing to lose now, huh? Oh wait, let me guess. Because, uh, it's because you're already dead, right?"

Dean shrugged, "If the shoe fits."

"You know what, man?" Sam slammed his hand down on the table, "I'm sick and tired of your kamikaze trip."

"Whoa, whoa, kamikaze?" Dean asked, before smirking, "I'm more like a ninja."

"That's not funny," Sam deadpanned.

"It's a _little_ funny," Michelle argued.

"No, it's _not_," he turned to glare at her as she held up her hands in mock surrender.

"What do you want me to do Sam, huh?" Dean shook his head at his brother, "Sit around all day writing sad poems about how I'm gonna die? You know what? I got one. Let's see, what rhymes with 'shut up, Sam?'"

"I want ham?" Michelle suggested, trying to lighten the mood and prevent the brothers from starting WWIII in the motel room, "Ba-da-bam?"

Dean smirked, "Ham…I could go for a ham sandwich when this is done."

Sam rolled his eyes at the two of them, "Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid."

"I'm not!"

"You're lying," Sam said firmly, staring him down, "You may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you."

"You got no idea what you're talking about."

Michelle slowly sat back in her seat, sensing the war was imminent and unavoidable.

"Yeah, I do," Sam nodded, "You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I know you!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is _exactly_ how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just..."

Sensing Sam getting worked up, Michelle reached out and placed a hand on his arm.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"I wish you would drop the show and be _my brother_ again," Sam begged, "'Cause...just 'cause."

Dean paused, staring at his brother, who was now looking at him with dejected and sorrowful eyes, "Alright, we'll hole up, cover our scent so he can't track us, and wait the night out here."

Michelle was silent for a minute, "I could go for a ham sandwich too…want me to get some?"

He looked at her for a moment before nodding.

~8~

Dean was in the process of barricading the door while Sam worked on the windows, Michelle was busy lighting some incense to block their scent.

"You've had that phone two hours, Dean," Sam commented when Dean's phone started to ring, "Who'd you give the number to?"

"Nobody," Dean answered, picking up, "Hello?"

He stiffened noticeably. Sam and Michelle stepped before him, watching as he tensed more as the conversation went on. By the end, they both had an idea of what had been discussed. Gordon had gotten Dean's phone number and kidnapped a girl, threatening to kill her unless they agreed to meet him.

Unfortunately, they had little choice.

~8~

The trio cautiously made their way to the warehouse where Gordon had taken his hostage. They managed to find her relatively quickly and easily with no sight of Gordon. Michelle glanced cautiously around the room as the boys untied her, something about it all not sitting right with her.

"Hey, we got you," Sam assured the girl, "Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here," he helped her up, "Get up. Watch your head. Watch your head."

The girl was sobbing so hard she could barely walk so Dean placed her arm over his shoulders and picked her up, carrying her towards the door they came through.

"This was too easy," Michelle warned them cautiously.

Dean hesitated, eyeing the room warily, before glancing at his brother, "Sam, stay close."

Sam nodded, following behind his brother, Michelle bringing up the rear. Unfortunately, he wasn't close enough to Dean as a door slid down the wall just as Dean passed through, cutting off Sam and Michelle from Dean and the hostage.

Sam ran at the door, pounding on it, hearing his brother pounding on the other side, but couldn't open it. They shouted at each other across the door, Sam hitting it in frustration before turning back to Michelle, who was glaring around the room.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the lights went out.

Sam froze, lifting his machete. He felt a hand on his arm, Michelle was at his side in an instant. They took a few steps forward, his arm held out blindly in front of him.

"Close your eyes," Michelle whispered to him.

"What?" he hissed at her.

Was she _insane_?

"Your eyes need time to adjust. Closing them will do it faster, it's not like we can see anything right now anyway."

Sam nodded, seeing her point, before shutting his eyes and taking a few more steps forward, unaware she hadn't closed her eyes herself.

"Gordon...you got me where you want me," Sam called into the darkness, "You might as well come out and fight!"

"I'm right here, Sam," a voice said from behind him. He stiffened as did Michelle, "What's the matter Sammy?"

"So, this is really the way you want to do it, huh?"

"Damn right I do. You have no idea what I faced to get here…"

"Cover your ears," Michelle whispered to Sam again, so low not even Gordon and his vampire-hearing could hear it, "He's going to try and bait you, get you angry," he opened his mouth to protest, "Please Sam," she said softly, "Trust me, I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

He swallowed hard but pressed his hands to his ears.

Gordon, who was walking around, looking anywhere but at the two of them, didn't seem to notice, "I lost _everything_. My life. But it's worth it, 'cause I'm finally gonna kill the most dangerous thing I ever hunted. You're not human, Sam."

"Look who's talking," Michelle countered, watching the man walking in circles around them.

"You're right," he nodded, "I'm a bloodthirsty killer."

Michelle glared at him, "Don't talk about it like you don't have a choice."

"I don't."

"Yes you do, Gordon. You didn't kill that girl."

Gordon shook his head, "No, I didn't. I did something much, _much_ worse," he chuckled, "I got to hand it to you, Sam. You got a lot of people fooled. But see, I know the truth. I know what it's like. We're the same now, you and me. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside you."

"You think he's evil?" Michelle interrupted his monologue.

Gordon turned to see that Sam had been covering his ears the whole time, all his words had been wasted. He advanced, coming to a stop just a foot away from Michelle, but she would have none of that.

"You think you see something in him I don't?" she continued, "I _know_ demons, I _see_ them for what they are, and Sam is _not _one of them."

"Not _yet_," Gordon assured her, "But he will be. He'll be the thing that destroys us all."

"And who told you that?" she scoffed.

"God," Gordon smiled, "I'm his soldier."

"God told you?" Gordon just nodded, "Did he tell you about me?"

"You?" he eyed her, seeing nothing special.

She smirked, "You want to kill Sam, you have to go through me."

Gordon glared at her, his body tensing as he saw her now for the threat she was, a very well-trained Hunter, "I'm gonna kill Sam, just as soon as I'm done with you. Two last good deeds. Killing you two, and killing myself."

Michelle saw the attack coming and grabbed Sam's arm, twisting him so that she received the brunt of the blow that sent them both through the wall separating them from Dean. Sam opened his eyes to see Gordon land on top of them, reaching out to grab Michelle and throw her against the wall. She crumpled to the floor as Gordon went for Sam.

He knocked away Sam's machete and threw him across the room. Dean, who had just dealt with the newborn vampire hostage, aimed the Colt at Gordon's head, only to be flung across the room as well. Gordon pinned Dean to the wall, sinking his teeth into Dean's neck.

Sam, seeing this, threw himself at Gordon, smacking him across the back of the neck. Gordon turned and, with a vicious punch, sent Sam to the ground before slamming him across the back of a work table.

Something pricked the back of his neck just as Sam grabbed a piece of cloth and a razor wire in each hand. Gordon shook his head before pinning Sam down once more, but Sam managed to wrap the wire around Gordon's neck, pulling as hard as he could, ignoring the pain in his hands from where the wire was cutting in, until he managed to decapitate the vampire.

Sam fell against the desk, panting from the effort and examining his now bloody hands until a cloth was wrapped around them. He looked over to see Michelle wrapping it in a bandage until it could be cleaned in the motel room.

Dean pulled himself off the ground, holding a hand to his neck. He glanced down at the head of Gordon and back to Sam and Michelle. He walked over to his brother, checking to see if he was ok before helping him up with Michelle's help, all three of them stumbling off, sore to no end.

"You just charged a super-vamped-out Gordon with no weapon," Dean commented, "That's a little reckless, don't you think?"

"Not as supercharged as you think," Sam replied, handing a small, empty, tranquilizer dart back to Michelle who Dean just noticed was holding her miniature dart gun.

He could only shake his head at them.

~8~

Dean had his head bent under the hood of the Impala, poking and prodding at something Sam and Michelle couldn't see. Sam walked over to a cooler, pulling out two beers and an icepack. He handed a bottle to Dean before tossing the pack to Michelle, who was leaning against the side of the car. She smiled grimly at him, placing the pack on her knee tenderly.

Last night when they had arrived at the motel, Sam had insisted they all make sure they were ok, each helping to clean the other's wounds. Michelle was in the middle of helping to patch up Dean's neck after working on Sam's hands when he noticed she was favoring a leg. She'd waved off his concerns till Dean stood up, with her over his shoulder and threw her on the bed, demanding she show them her leg or he cut her pants off.

Needless to say, she'd lifted her pant leg to show that her knee had been dislocated and was already creating a nasty, swelling, bruise. Dean had braced her as Sam popped it back into place for her. She'd been in a lot of pain to say the least. But it had its upside. Sam had gotten her ice and offered her the bed for the night so as to not jostle her leg on the couch, but she refused to let _him_ sleep on the couch, claiming she was very particular about the piece of furniture and that it was 'her thing,' something the brothers didn't really understand but just left it to the fact that she was a woman. Sam had eventually gotten her to compromise, sharing the bed, which had actually worked out better than either expected.

She'd opened her eyes that morning to see Sam's arm wrapped around her waist protectively. She'd moved away a bit so that it wouldn't be awkward for him to wake up like that. When Sam _had_ woken up, he'd claimed that was the best sleep he'd gotten in a long time and had jokingly offered to share his bed with her again. But something in the way he said it made her think he hadn't been joking entirely.

She smiled at the memory.

"Figure out what's making that rattle?" she heard Sam ask, drawing her out of her thoughts.

Dean sighed, "Not yet. Give me a box wrench, would you?"

Sam glanced at the tools laid out on the roof of the Impala, just behind Michelle, for a moment, not entirely sure which, of the few tools he didn't recognize, it was.

Michelle laughed lightly at that, picking up the proper instrument and limping over to Dean. She handed him the tool, giving him a meaningful look and a nod at Sam when he glanced up at her.

He stared a moment before nodding, getting it, "Sam!" he called, motioning for Sam to come over as Michelle stepped behind him and sat against the corner of the front of the car, "Come here for a second."

"Yeah?" Sam leaned over the engine like Dean was.

"This rattle could be a couple of things," he explained, gesturing to the engine, "I'm thinking it's an out-of-tune carb."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, "O…k…"

Dean nodded, "Alright, see this thing? It's a valve cover. Inside are all the parts that are on the head. Hand me that socket wrench," Sam picked up the socket wrench lying on the side of the engine, just under the hood, "Alright, you with me so far?"

"Yeah, uh, valve cover covers the heads," Sam repeated.

"Very good. This is your intake manifold, and on top of it?"

Sam smiled, remembering earlier lessons about the Impala, "It's, uh, a carburetor."

"Carburetor...very good," Dean smiled as well.

"What's with the auto shop?" Sam asked, but Dean just held out the socket wrench. Sam's eyes widened in realization, "You don't mean you want..."

Dean nodded, "Yeah, I do. _You_ fix it."

"Dean, you _barely_ let me _drive _this thing," Sam shook his head frantically.

"Well, it's time you should know how to fix it. You're gonna need to know these things for the future. And besides, that's my job, right? Show my little brother the ropes?"

Michelle smiled fondly at the brotherly bonding moment as Sam nodded and took the wrench. He leaned in and got to work. Dean turned around and leaned against the front of the car, sliding closer to Michelle and out of Sam's way. He looked at Michelle who gave him an approving nod.

He nodded as well, glancing over his shoulder to keep an eye on his brother, smirking, "Put your shoulder into it."

A/N: Lol, who else wouldn't mind Dean 'cutting their pants off?' I know I wouldn't :) I HAD to add that line about Bela being a 'pain in the pooper' because she really is. I also wanted to add a little more to Michelle, her squeamishness at 'gruesome' blood, her quirk about the couch, just to add a little more personality and realness to her.

Just a note, I imagine Michelle as assuming that, since Sam knew about the demon blood when she told him about her powers, that Dean does too which is why she talked to Dean about what happened to her. Dean is still under the assumption that Sam didn't know about the demon blood (as I gleamed/guessed from a line in Season 4). He might guess that Michelle knows, but hasn't said anything of the sort to Sam, saying she has similar powers but not going in detail.

And to answer a review, yes, my other story the Lunar Cycle (and the Academic Series) _will_ be continued, in 2013. The Lunar Cycle will be posted two weeks after DW Series 7 ends as I will be posting the Academic Series (14 chapters in 14 days) first. But also keep an eye out, sometime in the next week or so I will be updating Recollections and possibly starting an LJ&River collection too :)


	6. A Very Supernatural Christmas

A Very Supernatural Christmas

It was time, the time had come, no matter how much she tried to put it off or change the subject or beg or plead, nothing worked. She'd even tried her puppy dog eyes, which, now that she thought on it, she'd never been able to get to work in the past so she should have expected it to not work now, but to no avail. Which was how she'd found herself standing before the Winchester brothers in her average hunting clothes, her weapons on her.

"Ready for the demonstration?" Dean smirked.

She mock glared at him before sighing. She'd once told the boys they could never imagine how many weapons she could hide on her person, and now it was time for her to show them. She then began to remove every weapon from her body and clothes.

She hit the heel of her right shoe on the ground, triggering a blade to extend from the toe end. She reached down, popping off her shoe and placing it on the small table between her and the brothers. She then tapped the toe of her left shoe, extending a blade from the back of that one. She popped it off as well. Next came the machete attached to her left leg and the small gun strapped to her right leg along with the extendable baton also attached to her right leg, all under her pants. Higher up her leg, attached to the outside of her thighs and covered by the bottom of her semi-long jacket was a stake on her left and a modern handgun she'd customized to handle lead bullets on her right. Around her waist were two types of belts, one that held two more handguns, one filled with silver bullets and the other with average ones. The second belt seemed like a utility belt with quite a few pockets. Inside each, as she demonstrated, had a different supernatural element such as salt, matches, a small container of holy water, an equally small bottle of holy oil, and even some more medical supplies, like a roll of bandages and disinfectant, some stitching string with a needle and a small scissor, and pocket knife. There was also a small loop on the utility belt for a flashlight.

The jacket she wore, when held open revealed numerous stitching with other weapons, extra rock salt bullets for the shotgun, extra silver, lead, and average bullets for the handguns, a flair gun and flares, a cross, and even a taser gun. She reached into her outer pockets and pulled out handcuffs engraved with different symbols and yet another gun in the other one. She removed the jacket and showed them a dark harness around her chest that allowed her to carry two more larger machetes on her front, and, across her back she'd actually managed to hide a sword and a shotgun packed with rock salt rounds. After removing the jacket and harness, she lifted her shirt to reveal the elastic wrap from their hunt with the vampires where she kept special tranqs. and other less typical bullets on her person. She finished it off by reaching into her back pant pockets to pull out quite a few fake IDs and her beloved knife.

Dean let out a slow whistle when she finally finished, stabbing her knife into the only open spot on the table for good measure, and he caught sight of the pile of weapons before him, "Damn," he mumbled, reaching out to pick up a weapon or two and check them.

He glanced at Sam to see the boy just staring at Michelle in shock. He and his brother had enough trouble hiding _one_ weapon from civilians and an average girl like Michelle was able to easily hide almost twenty.

"Lifetime of experience," she remarked with a smirk.

~8~

It was two days before Christmas as Dean, Michelle, and Sam decided to take on another hunt. They had arrived at the Walsh residence, bright and early, to investigate the possible death of a father who disappeared under mysterious circumstances.

Dean was speaking to the wife, Sam looking around the house, while Michelle sat on the stairs with a little girl, speaking quietly with her, resting her hand on the girl's back. It had taken a lot to get the mother to agree to let Michelle talk to the girl, but a quick flash of FBI badges and a story that Michelle was a child psychologist specializing in trauma eased the woman's mind.

Michelle was sitting with the girl, hearing her side of the story, it mirrored the mother's she could overhear Dean speaking with. They had been in their beds while the father decorated the tree, there was a thump on the roof, a scream, and suddenly…no father.

Sam walked into the room, glancing at Michelle sitting with the girl, who had calmed down considerably since they first arrived. He looked at her and nodded, Michelle did as well and stood up to walk with him towards Dean.

"We're all set," Sam interrupted the conversation.

Mrs. Walsh nodded, turning to Michelle, "And Emily?"

Michelle smiled reassuringly, "Just stay strong and I know she'll be fine. She's a fighter."

"We'll be in touch," Dean added.

Mrs. Walsh nodded at them.

The trio turned to walk down the porch when Mrs. Walsh called out to them again, they turned to look at her, "The...the police said my husband might have been kidnapped."

"Could be," Dean nodded.

"Then why haven't the kidnappers called?" she asked, desperate for an answer, "Or...or...or demanded a ransom? It's two days till Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?"

"We're very sorry," was all Sam could respond with.

They walked back towards the Impala as Mrs. Walsh went back inside, "Find anything?" Dean asked Sam. He too had overheard Michelle's conversation with Emily which was nothing new compared to his own.

Sam sighed, "Stockings, mistletoe…" he pulled out something from his pocket and handing it to Michelle, "This."

"A tooth?" she looked at it closely, it was a molar from a human mouth, still bloody, the root missing as though it had been ripped out, "Where was this?"

She handed it to Dean to look at as Sam answered, "In the chimney."

"Chimney?" Dean lifted an eyebrow, "No way a man fits up a chimney, it's too narrow."

"No way he fits up in one piece."

Dean nodded, "Alright. So if dad went up the chimney…"

"…we need to find out what dragged him up there," Michelle finished.

~8~

Sam was sitting on the couch in the motel room later that day, his laptop open before him, scrolling through different windows for information on what might be plaguing the town. Michelle was at the table, a few books open. Dean walked in, a paper bag in his hand.

"So, was I right?" he asked them, putting down the bag and walking over to his brother, "Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?"

"Yup," Sam nodded, not looking up, "It's uh…it's actually Dick van Dyke."

"Who?" Dean asked, pausing in his actions.

"Mary Poppins."

"Who?" Michelle looked up.

Sam glanced between the two, both looking at him in confusion, "Oh come on you…" he sighed, shaking his head, "Never mind."

Dean shrugged, "Turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month," he walked past the couch, taking off his jacket and tossing it on one of the beds.

"Yeah?" Sam leaned back to glance over at his brother.

"Yeah."

"The other guy get dragged up the chimney too?" Michelle inquired.

"Don't know, witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof," he made a face, like the other two, "So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?"

"Actually, I have an idea," Sam began.

"So do I," Michelle cut in, both of them glaring at each other.

Dean looked between the two, "Trouble in paradise?" he joked.

"_Michelle_ here thinks it may be some pagan god," Sam said.

Dean opened his mouth to comment when Michelle spoke, "And _Sam_ thinks it's some sort of evil twin."

"Oh please you…"

"You know what…"

Suddenly the two of them started bickering at each other to the point where Dean couldn't even understand what was being said, "Hey!" he shouted, but they just continued to argue, he could tell now that they were pointing out the reasons why it couldn't be what the other was saying, "Hey!" he let out a high-pitched whistle that _finally_ got them to stop and turn to him.

"What the hell is this thing?" he demanded. He glanced at Michelle before turning to his brother, "Sammy?"

Michelle threw up her hands, crossing her arms over her chest and huffing, but the brothers ignored her.

"It's uh…it's gonna sound crazy," he commented.

Dean smirked, "What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?"

"Evil Santa?" Michelle deadpanned, cutting in.

Dean glanced at her before looking at his brother with a look that clearly said 'yeah right,' "Yeah, that's crazy."

Sam sent a little glare at Michelle, turning back to his brother, "Yeah. I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture," Sam turned his laptop around to show his brother pictures of a devil-looking creature. Dean looked at it, his brow furrowing. "You got…"

"Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter," Michelle listed, the brothers glanced at her, "My favorite Christmas bedtime stories."

Sam shook his head, "Whatever you want to call it, there's all sorts of lore."

"Saying what?" Dean asked.

"Saying…" Sam started when Michelle cut in again.

"…back in the day Santa's brother went rogue. And now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked," she said, leaning back on her chair with her eyes closed.

"By hauling their ass up chimneys?" Dean asked her.

"For starters, yeah," Sam answered.

"So _this_ is your theory, huh?" he turned to his brother, "Santa's shady brother?"

"Well, I…" Sam trailed for a moment, "Just saying, that's what the lore says."

"Santa doesn't have a brother. There's no Santa."

Sam frowned, "Yeah, I know. You're the one who told me that in the first place, remember?" Dean hesitated a moment as Sam put his attention back on the screen, he sighed, "Yeah, you know what? I could be wrong. I..." he closed it, "...got to be wrong. Michelle's probably right."

"Maybe not," Michelle cut in, shocking Dean.

Just moments ago the two were at each other's throats and now she was supporting him? He just shook his head, this is probably what happened when you put two researching know-it-alls in the same room.

"I agree," Dean added, "I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched."

Sam looked up at him, "Where?"

~8~

Sam raised an eyebrow as he, Dean, and Michelle wandered into 'Santa's Village.' It was a cheap, fake setting with people dressed as elves and reindeers, and a particularly disgusting man playing Santa.

"It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don't it?" Dean asked them as they walked towards Santa's shack.

"Yeah," Michelle nodded, not completely believing the theory but trying to be supportive.

"But…anti-Claus?" Sam scoffed at himself, "Couldn't be."

"It's a Christmas miracle," Dean shrugged, "Hey, speaking of. We should have one this year," he turned to his brother, smiling a bit.

"Have one what?"

"A Christmas."

Sam shook his head, scoffing, "No thanks."

"No, we'll get a tree," Dean smiled more, "A little Boston Market. Just like when we were little."

Sam sighed, "Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know."

"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases."

"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam half-glared at him.

"Aw come on Sam…"

"No," Sam said finally, "Just…no."

Dean shook his head, his grin fading fast, "Alright Grinch," he stormed off, leaving Sam and Michelle behind.

"Everyone has bad memories of Christmas," Michelle said after a moment.

"Not like mine," he commented.

"So you broke your collar bone and ruptured your spleen when your parents decided to take you on a hunt for a Glawackus?" she tried, completely calm and not nasty at all.

Sam flinched, knowing those particular creatures could be _vicious_, "When was that?"

"My first Christmas hunt," she nodded in memory, "I was eight."

"Eight?" Sam's eyes widened, who in their right mind would take an _eight year old_ to hunt a _Glawackus_? "Wait…_Christmas_ hunts?"

Michelle nodded again, "My parents would take me to hunt any chance they could. Summers road tripping in America for hunts, but Christmases and Easters in Europe or other countries hunting rarer creatures."

"Wow…that's…"

"Insane?" she supplied, laughing, "But I loved it."

"Really?"

"Yeah," she fell a bit silent, "I loved the hunting because, no matter how injured I got or they got, we were together. And we would do things besides hunt too, you know, take in the sights, talk late into the night. As long as I was with them, I was fine, I was happy. It was something we could do together, something they were passing down to me."

Hearing her talk about the past, Sam remembered his own. He remembered the Christmas that he'd learned about his dad and hunting. All he'd wanted that Christmas was for his dad to be there, for them to have a normal Christmas. He wanted answers, he wanted to know what his dad did and why he always left them alone. He'd had so many theories, that he was a cop or a spy, he'd tried to get Dean to answer, but he failed. He knew it involved something with his mother, but that was a touchy subject, no one talked about it.

"You'd think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow," Dean commented walking back to them, having cooled down.

"What?" Sam said, snapping himself out of his memory.

"Nothing. What are we looking for again?"

"Lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets," Michelle answered, taking Sam's hand to tug him on as they started walking, looking around for anyone with a limp.

"Great…" Dean drawled, "So we're looking for a pimp-Santa. Why the sweets?"

"Think about it, Dean," Sam said, squeezing Michelle's hand a bit, "If you smell like candy the kids will come closer, you know?"

Dean looked at them, "That's creepy."

"Tell me about it," Michelle grumbled.

"How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?"

"I don't know," Sam and Michelle said at the same time. They looked at each other and smiled.

They stopped walking when they reached where Santa was sitting with a child on his lap, a line of kids to the side. Santa definitely looked like the anti-Claus, shady, gross, very anti-Christmas.

They frowned when they saw a child sit on the Santa's lap, watching as the man proceeded to talk to the child, laughing unnervingly, rubbing the kid's back suggestively, and just being an all around pervert until the kid's mother took him away.

A woman dressed as an elf walked up to the trio, "Welcome to Santa's Court, can I escort your child to Santa?" she asked, all chipper and happy, her attention drifting to Michelle and Sam.

The duo shifted awkwardly, letting go of their hands and taking a small step apart, "Uh…" Sam began, looking around.

"Um…" Michelle added none too helpfully.

Dean looked between the two, immensely enjoying how they were acting, especially Michelle, who always seemed to have a cover for them to use, "No, no, uh, but, actually my brother here," he clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, "It's been a lifelong dream of his."

The elf eyed them, unsure of what to say, "Uh, sorry. No kids over…12."

"No, he's just kidding," Sam said quickly, "We only came here to watch."

The elf looked at them, disgusted, and was about to turn away with Sam protesting his words, when Michelle stepped up, "What he means to say is that we're from the Social Services Department," she reached into her back pocket and pulled out an ID, flipping it open quickly, "We volunteer to go around to certain areas and check out the Santas, make sure their not _violating _any _codes_," she leaned forward, motioning for the elf to do so as well, "We may have a case here, if you know what I mean," the elf leaned back and glanced at Santa, nodding her head at Michelle before walking off.

Dean hung his head, his fun was over, Michelle was back.

Sam looked at Dean, glaring, "Thanks for that Dean."

Dean just laughed and glanced over at the Santa, getting out of his chair, "Check it out," they watched as Santa walked by them, limping. They turned to watch him walk off, "Are you seeing this?" Dean asked them quietly, leaning over.

Michelle shrugged, "A lot of people walk with limps, right?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Tell me you didn't smell that. That was candy, man."

"That was ripple," Sam said seriously, "I think…had to be…"

"Maybe," Dean agreed, "We willing to take that chance?" he glanced over at Sam, who shook his head.

~8~

They'd followed pervy Santa home after his shift and were sitting in the Impala outside the man's house when Dean yawned, "What time is it?"

"Same as the last time you asked," Michelle commented, in the backseat, reading a book with her penlight.

Dean groaned and rubbed his eyes, clearly tired.

"Here," Sam handed him a thermos, "Caffeinate."

Dean opened it and went to pour some coffee, only to see it was empty. He glared at Sam, handing it back to him, "Wonderful," he stared out at nothing for a moment before smiling, "Hey Sam?"

Sam looked at him, "Yeah?"

"Why are you the boy who hates Christmas?"

Sam just looked away, "Dean…"

"I mean, I admit it, you know? We had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids…"

"Bumpy?" Sam smiled, throwing a look at Dean.

"That was then," he commented off handedly, "We'll do it right this year."

Sam's smile faded, "Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas knock yourself out. Just don't involve me."

"Oh yeah, that'd be great," Dean continued sarcastically, "Me, myself, and Mickey making cranberry molds."

"Dean..." Michelle cut in, trying to stop their argument by pointing at the pervy Santa now standing in front of his window.

He was still dressed as Santa, looking both ways out the window before pulling the curtains closed.

"What's up with saint nicotine?" Dean asked.

Before either Sam or Michelle could answer, a scream resonated. The trio looked at each other before opening their doors and running towards the house. They drew their guns, cocking them as they ran up to the door, when Sam laughed.

"What?" Dean looked at him.

"Nothing," he said quickly before seeing his brother looking at him, waiting, "It's just that uh...well, you know, Mr. Gung-Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa."

Dean just stared at him for a moment before kicking in the man's door. Santa turned around at the sound. They quickly realized that pervy Santa was more pervy than they thought as they saw Christmas-themed porn on the TV. They hid their guns as Santa stood, holding a nearly empty bottle of alcohol.

"The hell are you doing here, huh?" he slurred.

The trio looked at each other, not sure what to do or what to say to explain themselves.

"I…" Sam began.

"Uh…" Dean contributed.

"Silent Night," Michelle began to sing, off-key.

Seeing what she was doing, Dean and Sam quickly joined in, followed by the drunken Santa. Dean and Sam stumbled over their words, clearly they had little experience singing Christmas carols, but between Michelle and Santa they were able to get Santa so into it that he didn't even notice them sneak out, Michelle punching Dean in the shoulder and hissing at him not to call her Mickey in the process.

~8~

Michelle was standing outside the motel that night, her jacket wrapped around her as she stared up at the stars.

"Hey," a voice said behind her.

She didn't even have to look back to know it was Sam. As soon as they had gotten back to the motel, Dean had passed out on his bed. Sam had gone to the bathroom to get ready for bed and Michelle had snuck outside.

"Hi Sam," he walked up next to her by the railing, "What are you doing up?" it had been about a half hour since she'd gone outside, she thought he'd be asleep by now.

"I couldn't fall asleep," he shrugged.

He didn't want to admit that he felt like he hadn't been able to go to sleep because she hadn't been with him. Ever since they took out Gordon, he and Michelle had been sharing one of the beds…it hadn't been for very long but he already felt odd not having her near him when he slept.

She nodded.

Sam sighed, "Did you ever want a normal Christmas?" he asked her, thinking back on what she'd told him about her own demon infested Christmases.

"Normal as in what? A Christmas dinner, turkey, the works, open presents, decorate a tree? Doing the same thing every year, year after year in exactly the same way? Or the chance to see new places, experience new things, learn and live? I'd pick living over playing it safe any day."

He couldn't argue with that. There were a lot of things that were repeated for Christmas, not that he'd ever really experienced them. They were silent for a while, Sam looking everywhere until his gaze landed on her, still staring up, "What are you doing?"

She smiled softly, "Two days before Christmas, Christmas Eve eve, wherever we were, whatever we were hunting, my parents would always take me outside at midnight. We'd lie on the ground and just look at the stars, pretending the stars were snow, that it was snowing in the sky, but it just hadn't reached us yet."

"Wow…" he commented, "That's great that you had a tradition like that."

"What about you and your Boston Market?" she asked, glancing at him, "That sounds like a tradition to me."

"Yeah," he said sarcastically, "A real special one."

She sighed, looking away from the sky completely, "Sam…" she paused, trying to think of how to phrase what she wanted to say, "Whenever I look at the sky on Christmas Eve eve…it reminds me of my parents. They're dead, they've been gone almost five years…"

"I'm sorry," Sam began but Michelle cut him off.

"When you have a tradition, embrace it, it creates _memories_, _good _ones," she looked him in the eye, "And like it or not, when someone's gone, memories are _all_ you have left."

With that, she walked back into the motel room to get ready for bed, leaving Sam outside to contemplate what she'd said.

~8~

The next day there had been another disappearance which was why Dean, Sam, and Michelle had headed over to the Caldwell residence. Just like the day before, Dean was speaking with the mother while Sam looked around and Michelle quietly discussed the situation with the child.

The mother had just finished telling Dean what her son, who had witnessed the entire thing, had said and he was now joining his brother in the living room to investigate the chimney. Seeing this, Michelle stepped away from the child and went to join them.

"Santa took daddy up the chimney?" Dean asked her, reconfirming the story.

"That's what he says," Mrs. Caldwell nodded, watching them, "Yes."

"And where were you?"

She reached up, touching her black eye, "I was asleep. And all of a sudden, Al was being dragged out of bed, screaming."

"Did you see the attacker?" Sam asked, trying to be gentler than his brother with the questioning.

She sniffled and put a hand in front of her mouth, "It was dark and he hit me. He knocked me out."

Seeing the woman getting so worked up, Michelle stepped to her side, placing a hand on her back, "I'm sorry. I know this is hard."

"Mrs. Caldwell," Sam continued when he saw her calming down, "Where did you get that wreath above the fireplace."

Dean and Michelle glanced at the wreath. Dean turned to quirk an eyebrow at his brother in confusion while Michelle furrowed her brow as she eyed it. A moment later her eyes widened in recognition.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Caldwell asked, not seeing the relevance of the question.

"Just curious," Sam said uncomfortably, knowing he almost blew their cover. Dean just tried smiling, but it came out as more of a half-smile, a very uncomfortable one.

They quickly concluded their interview and left the house.

"Wreaths, huh?" Dean looked at his brother, "Sure you didn't wanna ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer."

Sam scoffed lightly, "We've seen that wreath before, Dean."

"Where?"

"At the Walsh's," Michelle answered, "Yesterday."

Dean looked from her to his brother, seeing Sam staring at him, annoyed. They walked around the Impala as Dean cleared his throat, "I know. I was just testing you."

~8~

Back at the motel, Dean and Michelle were sitting in the room as Sam stood outside, talking to Bobby for his opinion on the situation.

"Sam's does want a Christmas," Michelle commented out of nowhere, jotting down notes on a small pad of paper.

"What?" Dean looked up at her from staring at Sam's own notes on the anti-Claus.

Michelle sighed and stared up at him, "He _does_ want to have a Christmas," she repeated, "But he doesn't."

"Well that's a boatload of helpful."

"You two haven't had a Christmas in years right?" Dean nodded, "Sam doesn't want this year to be any different, because, if he does have a Christmas with you, it'll just be a reminder that it's the_ last_ one he'll have with you."

His brow furrowed, "But it_ is_ the last one he'll have with me."

Michelle dropped her head and shook it, "He _knows_ that. But, in his head, if there's no Christmas, like every other year, he can convince himself that nothing's different about this one, that it's _not _the last one he'll have with you. It'll be like every year past and every year to come."

Before Dean could open his mouth to reply to her logic, namely how wrong it was, Sam walked in, "Yeah. Alright. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby," he flipped his phone closed and walked over to the table Michelle was sitting at, a book open before her and Sam's laptop across from her, "Well, we're not dealing with the anti-Claus."

"Toldyouso," Michelle coughed.

Sam just ignored her, pulling the laptop over to him and bringing up a search window.

"What did Bobby say?" Dean looked over at his brother.

"Uh…that we're morons…for not listening to Michelle," he said, the last bit softer than the first, "And that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths."

"Wow," Dean said sarcastically, "Amazing. What the hell is meadowsweet?"

"It's a very rare plant," Michelle answered as though reciting from a book, "It is one of the most powerful plants in pagan lore."

"Pagan lore?"

Michelle nodded, "They use meadowsweet for human sacrifices…"

"It was kind of like a chum for their gods," Sam added.

"Gods were _drawn_ to it."

"They'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human."

Dean stared between the two, "Creepy," he commented about how the two had just finished each other's explanation. But he got off the couch and walked over to Sam, who had turned his laptop to show Dean some pictures about the subject, "Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?"

"It's not so crazy as it sounds, Dean," Sam commented, swiveling his laptop back, "I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan."

"Christmas is Jesus's birthday," Dean said as though it were common knowledge.

"No, Jesus's birthday was probably in the fall," Michelle cut in, not looking up from her book, "It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the Church and renamed 'Christmas.' The Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit, are all remnants of pagan worship," she looked up to see Dean staring at her while Sam smirked.

"And I thought Sam was bad," Dean commented under his breath, but they both heard it.

"Hey!" they called at the same time.

Dean just smirked, "What'll you tell me next? Easter Bunny's Jewish?"

"Well, actually," Michelle began, "The egg, the hare, the date, are all remnants of pagan worship as well. Fertility, the moon goddess, the spring equinox…even the legends…"

Dean just held up a hand, shaking his head for her to stop destroying _all_ memories of his childhood, "So, you think we're dealing with a pagan god?"

Michelle nodded, "The most likely one is Holdenacar, god of the winter solstice," she looked over at Sam, slowly leaning forward to rest her chin on her hands, "Now…who was it who said it was a pagan god?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he commented, waving off the jibe.

"And all these Martha Stewart wannabes buying these fancy wreaths…" Dean glanced between the two, trying to guess who would take this one.

It was Sam.

"Yup, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying 'Come kill us.'"

"Great," Dean drawled sarcastically.

Sam started flipping through the web pages, trying to find something he remembered seeing on the god in question, when Michelle held up a book, open to a page with a picture of the god, sitting on a slay with a bucket of children on his back, the top reading, 'Lores of Winter: A Record of Folklores From Nordic Culture.'

"Huh," Sam leaned forward when a phrase caught his eye, "When you sacrifice to Holdenacar, guess what he gives you in return?"

"Lap dances, hopefully," Dean answered, not bothering to try and read the book, the two know-it-alls would tell him eventually.

"Mild weather," Michelle answered.

They looked out the window where there was still no sign of snow, "Kind of like no snow, in the middle of December, in the middle of Michigan?"

"For instance," Sam nodded.

"Do we know how to kill it yet?"

"No. Bobby's working on that now…"

"Evergreen," Michelle cut in, "Usually, stakes made of Evergreen."

"How do you know…" Dean started.

"Again," she interrupted, "Some of my favorite Christmas stories. Mom did her research. She never told me about a creature she didn't know how to kill."

Sam nodded, "We gotta figure out where they're selling those wreaths."

"Think they're selling them on purpose?" Dean got serious, "Feeding the victims to this thing?"

"Let's find out," Sam sighed, picking up his jacket as he stood.

~8~

The Cozy Crafts store was covered in Christmas decorations for the season. 'Deck the Halls' was playing over the speakers while Sam, Dean, and Michelle, walked through towards the main counter.

"Can I help you?" the shop assistant asked them, monotoned, as though he'd been asking the same thing all month, which he probably had.

Dean smiled charmingly, "I hope so. Uh…we were playing Jenga over at the Walsh's the other night and uh…" he looked at Sam, smirking, "Well, he hasn't shut up since about this Christmas wreath. I don't know, you tell him."

Sam looked uncomfortable with this while Michelle tried desperately not to laugh. She'd asked Dean once why he didn't just say all the girly excuses he used to get information be directed at her, since she _was _a girl, but he'd just said it was much more fun to make his brother squirm. Not to mention, the explanations Sam tended to come up with to try and get out of that were hysterical.

"Sure…" Sam muttered, turning to the assistant, deadpanning, "It was…yummy."

Michelle actually snorted at this.

The shop assistant eyed him curiously, "I sell a lot of wreaths..."

"Right, right," Sam continued, clearing his throat, "But...but you see, this one would have been uh…really special. It had uh…it had uh…green leaves, um, white buds on it. Might have been made of uh, meadowsweet?"

"Well, aren't you a fussy one?"

"I'm sorry sir," Michelle cut in, seeing Sam squirming even more, "It's my fault. I commented on how much I liked the wreath and Sam here," she entwined their hands, "He's been trying to find it for me. I told him it was fine but, he doesn't take no for an answer."

The shop keeper smiled softly at the young couple, nodding, "Anyway, I know the one you're talking about. Sorry, little lady, I'm all out."

Michelle's face fell a bit but she nodded in understanding. Playing along, Sam squeezed her hand reassuringly and smiled down at her.

"Seems like this meadowsweet stuff's rare and expensive," Dean commented, "Why make wreaths out of it?"

"Beats me," the assistant shrugged, "I didn't make them."

"Who did?"

"Madge Carrigan, a local lady. Said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free."

"She didn't charge you?" Sam's brow furrowed.

"Nope," he shook his head.

Dean smiled, "Did you sell them for free?"

"Hell no, it's Christmas! People pay a butt-load for this crap."

"That's the spirit," Dean smirked.

~8~

Dean held the door open for Michelle and Sam when they arrived back at the motel that night, "How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath really cost?" he asked them.

"Couple hundred dollars, at least," Michelle commented, taking off her shoes and sitting on the bed.

"This lady's giving them away for free?" Dean shook his head, throwing his jacket onto his bed, "What do you think about that?"

Sam took off his jacket too, laying it over a chair by the table as he sat down, "Well, I'd say it's pretty suspicious," he leaned forward putting his head in his hands.

Dean smiled in memory, "Remember that wreath dad brought home that one year?"

Sam looked over at him, "You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?"

"Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it."

"Alright," Sam paused a moment, glancing at his brother, "Dude, what's going on with you?"

"What?"

Sam sighed, "I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you wanna have Christmas so bad?"

"Why are you so against it? Were your childhood memories _that_ traumatic?"

"No, that has nothing to do with it."

Michelle just sat back on the bed, watching the verbal dispute silently, this was between the brothers, no matter how much she wanted to comment.

"Then what?" Dean demanded.

"I mean, I...I just...I don't get it," Sam explained, "You haven't talked about Christmas in _years_."

Dean's smile faded as he looked down, "Well, yeah…" he glanced up at his brother, "This is my last year."

Sam was quiet a moment before he looked away, sighing, "I know, that's why I can't."

"What do you mean?" Dean's brow furrowed.

"I mean, I can't…just sit around…drinking eggnog, pretending everything's ok…" Sam took a breath, "...when I know next Christmas you'll be dead," Dean nodded, staring out into space, "I just _can't_."

Both brothers sat in silence, Sam, lost in thoughts and memories. Christmas had been when he'd found their father's journal and read it, forcing Dean to explain that their father hunted demons for a living. He'd been terrified that their father might be killed by a monster but at least he had his brother there. Now, he wasn't sure what he'd do without him.

Michelle cleared her throat, drawing them both out of their thoughts, "Told you so," she looked between both brothers.

It was then that they realized she was right, she'd basically told each brother what the other was thinking.

She shook her head at them, "You're both idiots."

Neither disputed her claim.

~8~

The next morning it was time to investigate the Carrigan's. The trio made their way over to the house, decorated in a ton of Christmas cheer. It was the epitome of the Christmas house and they could already guess the people inside had decorated the interior similarly, probably even wearing Christmas sweaters.

"So this is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh?" Dean commented, looking up at the house, Sam sighed, "Boy, can't you just feel the evil, pagan vibe?" he smirked and walked ahead of his brother and Michelle, up to the door, knocking with the clapper that had jingle bells on it.

Moments later an older woman opened the door, "Yes?"

"Please tell me you're the Madge Carrigan makes the meadowsweet wreaths," Dean asked, mock hopeful.

Mrs. Carrigan smiled, "Why yes I am."

"Ha!" Dean shouted triumphantly, "Bingo!"

Sam smiled, "Yeah. Uh…we were just admiring your wreaths at Mr. Silar's place the other day."

Michelle noticed Dean glance behind the woman, staring at a gingerbread house on the table.

"You were?" Mrs. Carrigan clapped her hands, "Well, isn't that meadowsweet the finest smelling thing you ever smelled?"

Dean grinned, "Mhmm."

Sam continued smiling, "It is. It sure is. But see the problem is, is that all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one."

"Oh, fudge," Mrs. Carrigan frowned.

"You wouldn't happen to have another one that we could buy from you, would you?" Michelle asked, mock hopeful.

"Oh, no. I'm afraid those were the only ones I had for this season."

"Aw," Michelle frowned as a man came down the stairs and over to them.

"Tell me something," Dean cut in, "Why'd you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?"

"Why, the smell, of course," Mrs. Carrigan was smiling again, "I don't think I've ever smelled anything finer."

"Yes," Michelle commented slowly, "You mentioned that."

"What's going on honey?" Mr. Carrigan asked as he stepped next to his wife.

"Well, just some nice folks, asking about my wreaths, dear," she answered.

"Oh, the wreaths are fine. Fine wreaths. Oh. Care for some peanut brittle?" he held out a box towards the trio. Dean reached out to take one when Michelle smacked his hand, forcing him to drop it.

"We're ok," Michelle commented, "Can't have these two filling up before Christmas dinner."

The Carrigans nodded understandingly.

~8~

Dean was sitting on the side of his bed in the motel room, trying to sharpen stakes. There were three next to him and two on the floor. He had the trashcan between his legs but the bits of wood were flying everywhere _but _into it. He was getting very frustrated by the looks of it. Sam was sitting on the couch, checking his computer for information while Michelle sat at the table, watching Dean struggle.

She shook her head, taking pity on him, getting up and walking over to him. She took the would-be stake out of his hand, pulled out her knife and made quick work of it, handing it back to him within a minute.

He glared up at her, "Why couldn't you do that two hours and five stakes ago?"

She smirked, "It was much more entertaining watching you do it."

Dean was about to answer when Sam suddenly clapped his hands, "I knew it. Something was way off with those two."

"I could have told you that," Michelle rolled her eyes.

Dean ignored her and turned to his brother, "What'd you find?"

"Carrigans lived in Seattle last year where two abductions took place right around Christmas," he explained, "They moved here January. All that Christmas crap in their house, that wasn't boughs of holly, it was vervain and mint."

"Pagan stuff?" Dean guessed.

"Serious pagan stuff," Michelle nodded.

"So what?" Dean looked between the two, "Ozzie and Harriett are keeping a pagan god hidden underneath their plastic covered couch?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't know. All I know is we gotta check 'em out. So, what about Bobby? He's _sure_ evergreen stakes will kill this thing, right?"

"Glad to know you trust me Sam," Michelle joked. She knew Sam had already asked Bobby about what could kill the gods before she'd mentioned it.

"Yeah, he's sure," Dean answered, holding up a stake to examine it, hoping they would never need evergreen stakes again, they were a bitch to carve.

~8~

That night, the boys walked up to the porch of the Carrigan's house. Michelle had left, after she'd finished the rest of the stakes for Dean, to double check with the craft store that there had only been three wreaths out there. There would be no need to stake out the Carrigan's house when they were off killing some poor father in town. She'd agreed to meet the boys back at the house as soon as she was sure.

Michelle had been lucky that the people in the town seemed to be friendly, she was able to hitch a ride off a late night party-goer to the street the Carrigan's lived on as soon as she was done. She saw the Impala parked outside, empty, but the Carrigan's house lit up entirely. She quietly snuck up to the side of the house and walked around, peeking in the windows, trying to see if she could spot the boys.

After she'd made it nearly the entire way around the house she could faintly hear voices just over the Christmas music playing, coming from a room.

"…this? Nah, we're partiers," that was clearly Dean.

She crept up to the window and glanced in to see candles lit on a table, various tools and bowls scattered around, mixed in with plates of cakes and cookies. Sam and Dean were tied to chairs, the Carrigans standing before them.

"Isn't he a kick in the pants, honey?" Mr. Carrigan said to his wife before turning back to Sam and Dean, "You're Hunters, is what you are."

Sam looked up at him while Dean rolled his eyes, "Yeah, and you're pagan gods. So why don't we call it even and go our separate ways?"

Mr. Carrigan walked in front of Dean, who was facing the window, "What, so you can bring back more Hunters and kill us?" he laughed, "I don't think so."

Michelle waved a little, drawing Dean's attention, he caught sight of her and smirked. If only the Carrigan's knew. How they had forgotten there was another Hunter with them, he didn't know, probably too preoccupied with the two to-be-sacrifices before them to care. Or maybe they didn't think of women when they thought of Hunters.

Oh well, their mistake.

Michelle watched in horror as the Carrigan's proceeded to cut Sam and Dean, collecting their blood in bowls. She motioned to the side, ready to create a distraction, but Dean shook his head, he couldn't see his brother so he needed her eyes to make sure Sam was ok. She flinched when Mr. Carrigan pulled Sam's fingernail off.

This was getting to be too much, she quickly held up a hand, signaling for Dean to stall as she ran off towards the front of the house. In a stroke of luck, she saw a woman walking down the street, holding a fruitcake.

"Oh my God!" she squealed, rushing over to the woman, "Is that a fruitcake?"

The woman nodded, eyeing her a bit oddly, "Who are you?"

"Oh," Michelle knocked herself on the side of the head, "Sorry, I'm Amanda, Madge's niece."

"I didn't know she had a niece," the woman commented, smiling, "I'm Mrs. Berr."

"I don't get to visit often," she explained quickly, glancing at the cake, "Wow, is Aunt Madge going to be jealous."

"Of what?"

"Well, she's been trying to come up with a good fruitcake recipe, but, between you and me," she leaned forward, "It's not very good. She keeps comparing them to yours, says you make the best."

Mrs. Berr smiled, "Well, I do make a mean fruitcake."

Michelle smiled, "Boy do I know, that's _all _Aunt Madge talks about. I'm actually supposed to get her more ingredients so she can try again."

"Oh, don't do that. Here, why don't you take this one and give it to her, from me."

"Oh, I can't do that," Michelle frowned, "She _really_ didn't want me to say anything about it, but I'm such a bad secret-keeper. If she knew I told you…"

Mrs. Berr nodded, "Tell you what, you go and get your ingredients and I'll just bring this over to them, as a Christmas gift."

"Oh would you? She would just love that. She's been dying for a slice for ages."

"I will. You'd best run off, wouldn't want her to see you when I drop it off."

"Of course," Michelle nodded, walking off, but ducking behind a hedge as soon as the woman turned her back. She quickly ran around back, to the side of the house, her eyes widening when she saw Mr. Carrigan looming over Dean, forcing his mouth open with a pair of tongs.

A moment later, the doorbell rang, and she let out a breath of relief when the Carrigans looked at each other, halting their ministrations.

"Somebody gonna get that?" Dean asked, mumbled through the tongs in his mouth. The doorbell rang again, "You should get that."

Mr. Carrigan slowly took the tongs out of Dean's mouth, turning to his wife, who was fiddling with her apron, "Come on," he sighed.

As soon as the couple was out of the room, Michelle pushed the window open and climbed in.

"About time," Dean mumbled as she whipped out her knife and worked on his ropes.

"Shut up," she commented, getting through the ropes and moving over to cut Sam free as well.

Just then they heard the front door shut and footsteps approaching. They looked at each other a moment before running through the nearest set of doors, slamming it shut just as the Carrigans walked back into the room.

Moments later, there was banging on the doors as the Carrigans tried to break through. Dean was holding one set of doors shut while Sam held another set.

Dean heard a crash and looked over his shoulder to see Michelle crouching by the now toppled Christmas tree in the room, pulling branches off, "What are you doing?" he shouted to her, struggling with the door.

She glanced up and glared at him, "I'm guessing you lost the stakes somewhere," she said, frantically trying to sharpen the ends of the larger branches, "You're gonna need more."

Dean's eyes widened as he looked down to see his duffle bag with the stakes was, in fact, missing. He managed to pull a dresser over to hold the door closed before he ran over to Sam, helping him.

"The evergreen stakes are in the basement!" Sam confirmed.

Dean just nodded, looking around for something to hold the door shut, when he saw another dresser, "Hold the door," he shouted over the banging, running over to it and pushing it towards the door. As soon as it was close enough, Sam grabbed it and, with one last shove, got it in front of the door before the Carrigans could break through.

They hurried over to Michelle who handed them a few badly made, but sharp enough, stakes, when they noticed that the pounding on the doors had stopped.

It was eerily quiet.

Dean glanced over at Sam, when suddenly Mr. Carrigan appeared, lunging at Dean from the hallway. He managed to tackle the Hunter and whale on him when Mrs. Carrigan came rushing, stopping suddenly when she saw there were _two_ more Hunters instead of just Sam.

"You little thing," she glared at Michelle after noticing the tree, "I loved that tree."

Sam made a move to ready for an attack, when Mrs. Carrigan hit him hard across the face, sending him falling over the side of a table and to the floor. She made a move towards Michelle, who hit her in the face with a larger branch from the tree. She fell to the floor, giving Sam enough time to get up. She was on her feet immediately and ran towards them, only to be impaled by Sam.

Hearing her groan, Mr. Carrigan stopped pounding Dean and looked up, "Madge!"

Dean, seeing his opportunity, quickly hit Mr. Carrigan, sending him flying backwards and off him, straight into Michelle's own stake as she stood behind him. The two Carrigans screamed in horror as they were struck and soon fell to the ground dead, evergreen branches still in them.

Michelle reached out a hand and helped Dean up, all of them looking at each other for a moment before Sam spoke, "Merry Christmas."

Dean scoffed as Sam sighed. Michelle looked between the two, a bit puzzled, but wrote it off as some part of the conversation she had missed as she was trying to find/help them.

~8~

Michelle held the door open for the Winchester brothers when they returned to the motel room. They stopped just inside the doorway when they saw the room. Michelle smiled to herself as she gently closed the door behind her. She stepped past them, "So what do you think? A little late, but it's still Christmas."

They looked around the room, stunned. 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' was playing on the clock radio by the bedside table. There was a Christmas tree decorated with 'Wonderbaums' and baubles and lights in the corner of the room. Garland was taped and draped on the wall with some banners wishing a Merry Christmas. On each bed was a small red and green envelope. The TV was on with 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' paused at the beginning, clearly a rental.

Michelle smiled wider at their shock. She walked over to the small table and picked up three items, a Santa Hat that she placed on Sam's head, an elf hat for her, and a pair of reindeer antlers for Dean which she put on him also, both men too surprised to notice. There was also a carton of eggnog on the table along with a small plastic container of Christmas cookies and even an apple pie which a little Bobby had told her Dean was fond of. Taped to the windowsill were three stockings, one for each of them.

"What's all this?" Dean asked, still in a state of shock. How and when she had time to pull all this off was beyond him. Surely the stores had to be sold out of the decorations the day of Christmas.

Michelle shrugged, "I snuck out a few times, bought a few things. That one time I said I was going to talk to the third family, I did, but I took the long way back, stopped by a few stores."

"But…when?" Sam tried.

She'd been with them the entire time, how did she get it all up?

"Set it all up when I was supposedly checking out the craft store again," she answered.

It was quiet for a moment.

"Why?" Sam asked.

She sighed, "Whether or not you two wanted this or for what reason, you both _need_ it. You _deserve_ it…" she paused a moment before smirking, "And I needed an excuse to give you your gifts."

"Gifts?" Dean perked up.

She laughed, walking over to the bed and picking up the two envelopes. When she turned around she saw Sam and Dean standing there with two brown bags in their hands.

"Here," Sam said softly, reaching into his bag and pulling out a newspaper wrapped gift. He gave one to her and two to his brother. Dean smirked and did the same while she handed them the envelopes.

They stood there for a moment before Dean rolled his eyes, "Well, open them!"

She shook her head and went to sit at the table as did they. They stared at her expectantly, clearly wanting her to open her gifts first. She picked up the one Dean had given her, a slightly lumpy gift. Brow furrowed, she opened it tentatively, only to see a rainbow colored koosh ball.

She laughed, tossing it in her hand, "I love it," she commented, moving to open Sam's. It was a slightly more solid, cylindrical container. She peeled back the wrapper to see a carton of Pringles, her favorite snack food, "I've been craving these…" she looked up to see Sam and Dean smiling at her happily, pleased that she liked their gifts, "Where'd you get these?"

"Some place special," Dean answered, smirking.

She gave him a look.

"Gas mart down the street," Sam answered.

"Open yours," she instructed Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, not one to be bossed around, but did so anyway. He started with his brother's, opening the wrapper to see motor oil for the Impala and a candy bar. He grinned, looking at his brother, "Well, look at this. Fuel for me and fuel for my baby," Sam nodded as Dean took a bite of the bar, "These are awesome. Thanks."

"Good," Sam looked pleased, "Now Michelle's."

He nodded and moved to open the envelope.

"It's not much," Michelle said a bit shyly as he opened it.

He tore the side of the envelope open and held it upside down as a small booklet fell into his hand. It was a bunch of little papers stapled together on one end. He looked down on them to see it was a coupon book, like the kind a child would make for a parent with little tasks like 'do chores' or 'breakfast in bed.'

He flipped to the first page and looked up at her curiously, 'ONE Get Out of Hell Free' card.

"We haven't been travelling together long," she explained, "You have yet to see me _really_ PMS, and let me tell you, it is _not_ pretty," Dean burst out laughing as did Sam when he saw what was written, "It's good for one day, and there's only three…use them wisely."

He flipped through the little booklet seeing a few pages like, 'ONE Free Dinner,' 'ONE Homemade Pie,' 'ONE Neck Massage.'

"I think you'll like the last one best," she commented.

He flipped to the last one, 'ONE Manual Car Wash for the Impala,' and smirked, "Can I request, 'in a bikini' be added to this?"

She put a finger to her chin, as if she were actually considering it, "You'll have to give up your 'Get Out of Hell Free' cards."

Dean paused a moment, "I'll pass."

"Wise move," she laughed, before looking at Sam, "Your turn Sammy."

He smiled softly at her, for some reason, her calling him Sammy didn't bother him like when Dean did it. He nodded, opening his gifts from Dean first. He pulled out skin magazines and couldn't help but laugh, "Skin mags?" Dean just smiled as Sam went to open the second one, "And shaving cream."

"You like?" he asked.

"Yeah..." Sam nodded, "Yeah."

"And now for the big unveiling," Dean commented, leaning back in his chair, "What did Michelle get you? I'm betting nothing as good as mine."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and looked at his envelope. He glanced up at Michelle to see her biting her lip, worried he might not like his gift. He slid a finger through the top of the envelope and took out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and his mouth dropped open, stunned.

It was a sketch of Dean, wearing the reindeer antlers.

Dean leaned over to look at it, "I was right, definitely not as good as mine," he smirked, before saying in a sing-song voice, "Michelle likes me best."

Sam just ignored his brother and looked up at her.

"Memories are all you have," she said simply, "Every little bit helps."

Sam was about to speak, to thank her for it, when they heard a horn honk from outside. Michelle got up and glanced out the window, "Oh! Food's here!" she turned to the boys, grabbing some money from her pockets and rushing for the door, "Be right back."

The boys looked out the window to see a delivery van for Boston Market sitting outside, snow lightly falling around it.

Dean let out a light laugh, sitting back and pouring alcohol-free eggnog for the three of them, "Much better than any Christmas I ever had," Dean commented, "You?"

Sam thought back to what used to be his best Christmas memory, when Dean had tried to convince him their dad had remembered the holiday by breaking into a neighboring house and stealing some gifts. He'd gotten Sapphire Barbie and a baton out of that day, but it was also the day he realized his brother cared about him more than anything. It was the day he'd given Dean the amulet he wore even to this day.

"Way better," he agreed before growing silent.

Dean was silent as well, knowing where his brother's thoughts were headed, "You know," he smiled a bit at his brother, "Instead of thinking of this as your _last_ Christmas with _me_," Sam looked up, Dean smiled more, "Think of it as your _first_ Christmas with _Michelle_."

Sam glanced at the door a moment before looking back at his brother. In that one comment, Dean had implied there would be many more Christmases with Michelle, "You think?"

Dean just nodded as Michelle walked back into the room, shaking off some flurries as it had started to snow, "The food's still warm," she said, placing the bags before them, "I didn't know what you guys liked, so I just guessed."

Neither brother complained at the food they'd been given. The thought of what she had done alone was more than enough to make either of their days.

Before they began eating, Dean held up his glass of eggnog in a toast, "Merry Christmas."

The other two smiled and lifted their glasses to clink them together.

Michelle waited for the boys to take a sip before smirking, "Who's up for 'How the Grinch Stole Christmas' after this?"

Dean groaned but Sam just laughed, nodding his head. It had been _years_ since he'd seen that movie.

As they ate, they talked about everything and nothing, no other thoughts in their head but remembering the moment. No one thought about what tomorrow would bring, or what next Christmas would be like, they just enjoyed the company of a woman they had come to care for greatly in such a short time, who already felt like part of the family.

One thought about the future did enter one person's mind as they talked.

Dean made a promise to himself then and there, come hell or high water, he was going to make sure Sam and Michelle ended up together before he was gone.

A/N: And now we've got a plotting Dean...oh boy. What will happen? I hope you liked Michelle's gifts to the boys :)


	7. Malleus Malificarum

Malleus Malificarum

Dean was standing in the Dutton household, questioning Mr. Dutton, Paul, about the mysterious death of his wife. When they'd first found the case in the newspaper as they were passing through town, it had jumped out of them. Women didn't normally begin coughing up blood and spitting out teeth, which was why Dean was handling Paul while Sam looked around the bathroom and Michelle investigated the bedroom, both listening in on the questioning.

"She was so scared," Paul said in thought, "I couldn't help, I couldn't do anything to stop it. And I've talked to the police and I've talked to the medical examiner and no one can explain it."

"Well that's why they put the call in to us Mr. Dutton," Dean commented.

"But the CDC, that's disease control right? What do you think, it's some kind of virus?"

Sam closed the door slightly to look more thoroughly while Dean continued his questioning, "We're not ruling out anything yet. Mr. Dutton did Janet have any enemies?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Anyone that might have a reason to hurt her?"

"Wait, what are you saying?" the man was slowly beginning to panic, "That somebody _poisoned_ her?"

Michelle straightened up from looking under the bed to catch a glimpse of Sam through the bathroom door where he was also sitting back from looking under the sink, she squinted as he did, he must have found something. She stood up slowly, continuing to look around for anything she might have missed.

"I'm just saying we have to cover every base here," Dean replied, trying to calm the man.

Paul nodded, taking a few breaths, "Well, I mean, what kind of poison? You think a person could have done this?"

"Would anyone _want_ to?"

"What? No, no, there's just no one that could've…"

Sam opened the bathroom door, "Mr. Dutton?" he asked, drawing both their attention. Michelle eyed him, seeing him holding something behind his back. She made her way over to them.

"Uh, everyone loved Janet," he said simply.

Sam nodded at Dean and Michelle, he was done with his investigation. Dean glanced at Michelle, who nodded as well. Dean turned to Paul, "Ok. Thank you very much, I think we've got everything we need. We'll get out of your way now."

The trio quickly made their way out of the house, opening up a few umbrellas to hide from the rain.

"That dude seem a little evasive to you?" Dean asked them.

"I don't know," Sam replied, "I was under the sink."

"What'd you find?" Michelle looked at him.

He pulled a small pouch out of his pocket and handed it to her. They stopped walking as Dean leaned over to look at it as well. She slowly opened it, flinching back at the contents.

"Hex bag," Michelle commented.

"Aw, _gross_," Dean added.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, there are bird bones, rabbit's teeth. This cloth is probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned."

Dean glanced back at the house for a moment before looking at the two of them. Michelle handed the bag back as they walked towards the Impala again, "So we're thinking witch?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, and not some new age wicked water douser either," Sam agreed.

Michelle nodded, going over the contents of the bag in her mind, "This is Old World black magic."

Sam let out a chuckle as they got in the Impala, "Warts and all."

"I_ hate_ witches," Dean mentioned as he started the car and drove off. Sam and Michelle just laughed, "They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere."

"Pretty much," Michelle replied.

"It's creepy, you know, it's downright unsanitary," he shuddered.

"Yeah, well someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton," Sam said.

"Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag. So what are we thinking, we're uh, looking for some old, craggy, Blair bitch in the woods."

"No, it could be anyone," Michelle sighed, leaning back in the backseat, " Neighbor, coworker, man, woman, that's the problem.

Sam nodded, "They're human, they're like everyone else."

"Great, how do we find 'em?" Dean asked.

"This wasn't random. Someone in Janet Dutton's life had an ugly axe to grind. We find the motive…"

"We find the murderer," Michelle finished.

"…yeah," Dean added, _he'd_ been about to say that.

Michelle smirked, sensing that, and reached forward, nudging his shoulder.

~8~

It was a good thing the boys decided they should follow Paul, if his wife was targeted he might be too. And it turned out, he was. They'd been following him in the Impala all day, when he pulled over to eat, suddenly falling out of his car, hunched over. Dean quickly pulled up and they ran over to him. Dean rushed to Paul's side, yelling at Michelle and Sam to check the car.

Sam ran towards the driver's side while Michelle took the passenger's side. They frantically searched everywhere they could, under the seats, under the dash, in the glove compartments, until Sam finally found a hex bag under the steering column.

"Got it!" Sam shouted, pulling it out. He got out of the car, as Michelle did, while Dean helped pull Paul up from the pavement.

"Come on!" he shouted at them.

"Sam!" Michelle called, tossing him a lighter, which he used to light the bag on fire, dropping it to the ground as blue and green flames burst out of it.

Paul quickly recovered from his stint of almost choking to death and leaned back against his car.

"You ok?" Michelle asked, coming around to kneel at his side.

"What the hell is happening to me?" Paul gasped.

"Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you, _that's_ what's happening to you," Dean said bluntly.

"That's impossible! There's no way…"

"If we hadn't have been following you, you'd be a doornail right now," Dean half-growled, "Now, who wants you dead?"

"I...uh..."

"Come on," Michelle encouraged, "Think."

"There's a woman…uh…"

"A woman, ok?" Dean sighed, that wasn't really helpful.

"An affair...a mistake, she was unbalanced, she was blackmailing me and I put an end to it a week ago."

"What's her name?" Sam asked.

"What could she have to do with…"

"Paul," Dean interrupted, "What is her name?"

~8~

They had to wait until nightfall to break into Amanda's, the woman Paul had had the affair with, house. Dean expertly picked the lock and entered it, followed closely by Sam and Michelle, each with their gun drawn and ready. They slowly entered the room, only to find Amanda half-lying on a table, dead, covered in blood.

They switched on the light so as to see better and stared at the body, "That's a curveball," Dean commented.

"Yeah," Sam nodded as they approached the body.

Dean lifted her right arm with his gun, holding it for Michelle to examine the scratch marks on it, "Three per wrist, vertical," Michelle noted.

Dean let out a short whistle, "She wasn't foolin' around."

Sam put his gun back in his jeans and bent down to look at the remnants of Amanda's altar. Michelle knelt next to him, holding her nose at the smell of the burnt and rotten food. That was a downside to her training. Her father had insisted on training her to use all her senses should one get cut off. Like if she were blinded, she could use her sense of smell and hearing to fight. He had different exercises meant to strengthen them, so her sense of smell was better than most...which made smells like this even more repulsive.

"Yeah, looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here," Sam said.

"Yup," Dean agreed. He turned around to look at the rest of the house, nearly jumping a mile out of his skin when he came face-to-face with a dead rabbit hanging from the ceiling, "Oh God!" he shouted, putting a hand to his heart as Michelle sniggered and Sam looked amused, "Freakin' _witches_! Seriously man, come on!"

"Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from," Michelle said off handedly, smirking at Dean's reaction.

"Well, Paul sure knows how to pick 'em huh? It's like Fatal Attraction all over again."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, smiling.

"And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal?" Dean exclaimed, still looking at the rabbit, "The poor little guy."

Sam shook his head, "You know what I don't get Dean? If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?"

"Well, she got Janet Dutton, thought she finished off Paul, decided to cap herself and make it a spurned lovers hat-trick," Dean guessed.

Sam frowned, "Maybe."

He began looking around the table, Michelle watched for a moment before catching on to his line of thought and looking under the table Amanda was lying on.

"I mean, this doesn't exactly look like the TV room of a bright and stable person you know?" Dean asked.

"No…" Sam muttered, not really paying attention.

"But then..." Michelle added, pulling a hex bag from under the table and standing up. She tossed it to Dean, "There's this."

"Another hex bag?" Dean looked up, fed up, "Come on!" he opened the bag, only to find similar items in it as the other ones. He tossed it to Sam, pulling out his phone, "Looks like we got a hit huh? A little witch-on-witch violence?"

"I guess," Sam sighed as Michelle nodded.

Dean dialed a number and put it to his ear, "I'd like to report a dead body, 309 Mayfair Circle. My name? Yeah, sure my name is…" he flipped his phone closed, cutting off the conversation, turning back to his brother, "Why are witches ganking each other?"

"I don't know."

"But I think we might have a coven on our hands," Michelle commented.

Both boys looked grim at that.

~8~

The next day Dean, Sam, and Michelle had agreed to look into some of Amanda's friends, see if they noticed anything different about her, if she had enemies, or if she had recently sold her soul to the devil, something along those lines.

They had talked to a number of people, all of whom mentioned a sort of club she was a part of and naming the next person on their list as a member, an Elizabeth, who was currently sitting outside her house tending her garden before the sun set when they arrived.

"You must have a green thumb," Michelle commented, stepping forward.

"Excuse me?" she turned, a bit startled by their appearance.

"Getting those herbs to grow out of season like this, quite impressive," Michelle explained. She stepped up and pulling out a badge, "I'm sorry I should have introduced myself first. I'm Detective Thornton, this is Detective Bachman," she nodded to Sam, "And Detective Turner," she nodded to Dean.

The boys took out their own badges and flashed them at her, "Hiya," Dean smirked.

"We're following up on Amanda Burns's death, going around the neighborhood and talking to neighbors and stuff like that," Sam stated.

"But didn't she...I mean she killed herself right?" Elizabeth asked, standing up.

"Maybe. Maybe."

"We heard you were friends with the deceased?" Michelle added.

"Yeah, I guess so," Elizabeth answered.

"Did you have any idea about her practices?"

"I'm sorry, what kind of practices?"

"Well see, her house was littered with satanic paraphernalia," Sam said.

"A regular Black Sabbath," Dean remarked.

"No, the...but she was an Episcopalian," Elizabeth explained.

Dean laughed, "Well, then we're pretty sure she was using the wrong Bible."

Two other women walked up to the house, behind them, "Elizabeth, you alright?" one asked, drawing the attention of the trio.

They turned at the sound of another voice to see a blonde and a brunette standing there. Michelle flinched, something Sam noticed as he was standing so close to her side he could feel it. He glanced at her to see her trying not to glare in the brunette's direction. Unable to say anything now, he made a mental note to ask her when they were finished.

"I'm fine uh, Renee, these are detectives," Elizabeth explained to the blonde, "They say Amanda was...she was practicing…"

"I'm sorry detectives, you can tell that Elizabeth is a little bit upset," Renee excused her friend.

Dean nodded, "Of course, Miss…"

Renee smirked, "_Mrs._ Renee. Van. Allen. Would you like me to spell it for you?"

Dean's own smirk morphed into an annoyed smile, "I'll get by, thanks."

"This Amanda business has been hard for Liz, for all of us."

"Yeah, I mean, you think you know a person," the brunette added.

"Well, I guess we all have secrets, don't we?" Michelle said, her gaze lingering on the brunette a moment longer than Renee.

Sam's brow furrowed, "Well, thanks, um, we'll be in touch."

"Have a nice day," Dean added, starting to walk off.

"Bye!" the brunette called after them.

As soon as they were a good distance away, namely in the Impala, driving down the road, through a fog, they were able to talk.

"Well, I'm already sold on that Elizabeth chick," Dean commented as he drove, he glanced over at his brother in the passenger's seat, "Did you see that victory garden of hers? Belladonna, Wolf's Bane, Mandrake, not to mention that little flinch she threw when we mentioned the occult."

"Well, she's definitely had a good run lately, gone up a few tax brackets, won almost too many raffles," Sam commented, already looking her up on his laptop, "Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with."

"Yeah."

"I don't think she's alone either, look like Mrs. Renee Van Allen has won almost every craft contest she has entered in the past three months."

"Yeah, a regular Martha Stewart huh? Except for the devil worship, I'm thinking that was the coven back there we met, minus one member."

Sam twisted in his seat, remembering something, "What was up back there?" he asked Michelle, "You were practically shooting daggers at that brunette," he glanced back at his laptop, "Tammi."

"She's a demon," Michelle stated, "A very old, probably very powerful one, if her looks are anything to go by."

"What?" Dean looked at her through the rearview mirror.

"The older and more powerful a demon is, the uglier they are," she shuddered, "And boy was she ugly!"

Sam nodded, that bit of information would come in useful, "Any idea why she's a member of the coven?"

Michelle shook her head, "No, I mean, unless she's trying to fool them into thinking they really have powers by making things happen, I don't know. Usually witches sell their souls to the devil, no need for a demon go-between."

"Well Amanda was clearly going off the reservation, what do you think they killed her to keep up appearances?"

"Seems like an appearance kind of crowd don't you think?" Dean countered, Sam just nodded, "If they killed the nut-job should we uh, thank them or what?"

"They're working black magic too Dean, they need to be stopped."

"'Stopped like _stopped_?" Dean glanced at his brother, only to see him giving a clear look, "They're _human_ Sam."

"They're _murderers_."

Dean looked at Sam for a moment in disbelief before sighing, "Burn witch, burn," he continued to drive when the Impala suddenly gave out and started to sputter, "What the hell?"

The Impala slowed to a stop as the headlights flickered, revealing a blonde figure standing in the middle of the road. Michelle squinted from the backseat, but couldn't make them out clearly, especially in the fog.

Sam quickly got out of the car, followed by Dean and Michelle, walking towards the figure, "Ruby," he said, coming to a stop before her.

"Sam, listen to me, there's no time," the woman interrupted.

"For what? What are you talking about?"

"You have to get out of town."

"So this is Ruby huh?" Dean called, coming up to them. He raised the Colt and aimed it at her, cocking it, "Never had the pleasure."

"Dean!" Sam shouted.

"I was hoping you'd show up again," Dean smirked.

"Point that thing somewhere else," Ruby threatened.

"Right," he laughed grimly.

"Oh God damn it!" Michelle shouted as she made her way up to them, "What is with all the God damn demons in this town?!"

"Excuse me?" Ruby turned to her, ignoring the gun pointed at her.

"Sorry," Michelle commented, her mouth set in a firm line as though she'd been exposed to something disgusting but was trying not to let on about it, "But you are one _ugly_ ass demon."

Ruby looked at Sam as Dean burst out laughing, "She can see demons," Sam explained.

Ruby shook her head, "Sam please, go, get in the car and don't look back."

"Why? I don't understand."

"Hey hot stuff we can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks," Dean stated.

"I'm not talking about witches, you jackass, witches are whores," Ruby explained, "I'm talking about who they serve."

Dean and Sam looked at her, confused, when Michelle nodded as it dawned on her, "The demon in their circle, she's not _imitating_ the power, she's _given_ it to them, they got their powers _from her_."

Sam looked at her, "But you just said witches get their power from Satan."

"_Some_ demons," Ruby interrupted, "Are powerful enough to grant powers once they've collected a soul or two. And there's one here, now."

"Oh, what, you mean besides you?" Dean asked.

Ruby ignored him and kept her focus on Sam, something Michelle was not too comfortable with, "Sam, it knows you're in town and it's gonna come after you and its way more than you can handle."

"Oh come on, what is this, huh?" Dean rolled his eyes, getting angry, "Please tell me you're not listening to this crap!"

Ruby glared at Dean, "Put a leash on your brother Sam if you wanna keep him."

"Dean, look, just chill out," Sam tried.

"No, no!" Dean shouted, "She's messing with your head, God knows why, that's who they _are_!"

"I'm telling you the truth," Ruby insisted.

"And I'm telling you to shut up bitch," Dean glared. Michelle was actually starting to get a bit frightened by this, she'd never seen Dean angry quite like that before.

"I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?" Ruby turned to Dean.

"Oh, I don't know maybe because he's my brother you black-eyed skank!"

"Oh, right, right. You care about your brother so much, that's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?"

"Shut up," Michelle stepped in, that was a line _no one_ had the right to cross.

"At least let me _try_ and save him, since you won't be here to do it anymore," Ruby ignored her and focused on Dean.

"Shut up!" Dean shouted, moving to fire the Colt when Sam shouted for him not to, pushing his arm away as it fired. Dean tried to fight against his brother's hold and fire again.

"Guys," Michelle called, "She's gone."

They looked over to see that Ruby had indeed vanished. Dean gave Sam a look of extreme disappointment before getting back into the Impala. Michelle waited as Sam looked around for Ruby a moment longer before turning to face her. She was frowning at him, a look that was a cross between disappointment and insecurity marring her face. In that moment, Sam realized he never wanted to see that look on Michelle's face ever again, especially not directed at him. He tried to smile at her, but she just shook her head slowly, turning her back on him and getting into the Impala as well. His shoulders slumped as he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. But he sucked it up and got in the car as well.

The ride to the motel was one of tension and silence. As soon as Dean had pulled in and parked, he was out of the car, slamming the door shut. Michelle watched as Sam flinched, knowing something was definitely wrong as Dean was usually the one yelling at any and all who slammed the doors of his baby.

Sam got out slowly, trying to catch Michelle's eye as she got out as well, but she steadily kept herself walking forward.

Dean was already in the room with the lights on when Sam walked through behind Michelle, "What the hell were you _thinking_?" Dean rounded on him.

Michelle took off her jacket, setting it on the side of the bed as she sat on it, pulling Sam's laptop to her and opening it up.

Fed up with his brother's attitude, Sam snapped, "What? What the hell was _I_ thinking?"

"She's a _demon_ Sam, period, alright," Dean breathed heavily, "They want us dead, we want them dead."

"Oh, that's funny, I remember that demon chick in Ohio. Casey? You didn't want _her_ dead."

"Yeah, well she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook."

"No one's stringing me along. Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous, but like it or not, she is _useful_."

"We should kill her before she gets us all killed," Michelle commented quietly, deep in thought.

Sam glanced at her, aggravated, only to see her with a look on her face as though she were recalling something she was trying to forget, "Kill her with what?" he asked her, before looking at his brother, still holding the Colt, "The gun she fixed for us?"

Dean shrugged, "Whatever works."

"Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives," Sam threw up his hands.

Dean turned away from his brother and went to the sink, turning on the water.

"Look, we have to start looking at the big picture Dean, start thinking in strategies and...and moves ahead."

Dean splashed water on his face.

"What if she's two moves ahead?" Michelle asked.

"It's not so simple, we're not...we're not just hunting anymore, we're at war," Sam sighed.

Dean turned the water off and looked at Sam through the mirror. He grabbed a towel, patting his face dry before turning back to Sam, "Are you feeling ok?"

A bit thrown off by the question, Sam eyed his brother, "Uh, why are you always asking me that?" he sat down on the foot of the bed Michelle was sitting on, unconsciously reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. He breathed deep, starting to calm down.

"Because you're taking advice from a _demon_ for starters, and, by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing _people_, it used to eat you up inside," Dean listed, stating facts and not trying to start an argument for once.

"Yeah, and what has that gotten me?"

"Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do ok?" Dean looked around for a moment before looking back at his brother, "We're supposed to drive in the friggin' car and friggin' argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap."

Sam almost smiled as he realized something, "Wait, so...so you're _mad_ because I'm starting to _agree_ with you?"

Dean sighed, "No, I'm not mad, I'm...I'm...I'm..."

"He's worried, Sam," Michelle finished as Dean moved to sit down on his own bed.

Dean nodded, "I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself."

"Yeah, you're right, I'm not," Sam agreed, "I don't have a choice."

Dean's brow furrowed, "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Look, Dean, you're leaving right? And I gotta stay here in this crap-hole of a world, alone."

Dean shook his head, "You won't be alone."

"I'll be without _my brother_. So the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change."

Dean looked away from Sam, resting a hand on his stomach, looking very uncomfortable, "Change into what?"

"Into you, I gotta be more like you."

Dean lurched forward, his face tightening in pain, as he fell to the floor, clutching his stomach. "Ah!"

Michelle was up and off the bed in an instant, as was Sam, both of them rushing to Dean's side, "What's going on with you?" Sam asked, reaching out to his brother.

Dean just clutched his stomach more, clearly having trouble even speaking, "I don't know. Oh...Sam something's wrong...bunch of knives inside of me..."

"Dean…" Sam began, looking at his brother in shock, trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

"Shit!" Michelle exclaimed, jumping up and running around the room as Dean continued to groan in pain.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, watching her start throwing things on the floor and opening dressers.

"It's the coven," she commented frantically, "It's gotta be the coven."

She was looking for a hex bag!

Sam turned to Dean, "Don't worry," he stood up, grabbing the Colt and rushing out of the room.

Michelle had just finished tearing apart the room, when she heard the door slam and saw Sam was gone.

"Sammy," Dean groaned, squinting at the door.

Michelle looked back and forth between the door and Dean, "I'll get him," she called to Dean, "I'll keep him safe."

Dean managed a weak nod and that was all she needed before she was out the door after Sam.

~8~

Sam was really fast when he wanted to be. He'd made it to the Impala and was about to back out right when Michelle appeared behind him. He jammed on the brakes, glaring at her, though a bit shocked when, instead of dragging him back inside like he expected her to, she got into the passenger seat with him.

A moment later he was speeding down the road towards town, not slowing down till he was pulling to a screeching stop outside of the Van Allen house. He was out the door in an instant, Michelle following close behind. He strode right up to the house, kicking the door open to reveal Elizabeth, Renee, and Tammi at an altar. They jumped up at the noise, holding their hands up in surrender when they saw Sam and Michelle holding guns at them. Michelle knew that Tammi was a demon, so did Sam as he kept the Colt trained on her, while she focused on the other two. Regular guns couldn't kill demons, but they could kill humans, and she'd be damned if she let Sam be plagued by the murder of two human, though soulless, women.

"Let him go!" Sam demanded.

"Let who go?" Renee asked, "What are you doing? You're insane, get out!"

Sam glared at her, glancing between them, "Look, if you know about me, you know about this gun, you're killing my brother, now let him go. Get away from the altar."

"What?" Renee looked at him as though he were insane.

"Now!" Michelle yelled.

The women quickly moved away from the altar as Sam and Michelle stepped more into the room.

"Go," Michelle nudged her gun towards the fireplace, forcing the women to move more.

"What...we...we weren't hurting anyone," Elizabeth pleaded.

"Please we don't even _know_ your brother," Renee added.

"Stop the spell or die, five seconds," Sam threatened.

"What?" Renee's eyes widened.

Sam and Michelle just cocked their guns.

"Four," Michelle counted.

"No, please, _please_ don't kill us," Renee begged.

"We were just getting Renee a lower mortgage rate," Elizabeth explained.

Sam looked confused but Michelle just laughed, "Is _that_ what you think you're doing?" she looked at the two humans, "Who _the hell_ told you _that_? Can you even _read _that book?"

Renee and Elizabeth glanced at each other a moment before shaking their heads.

"You have _no idea_ what you've been conjuring or what you've been doing. His brother is being _killed_ right now because of you idiots. So you better _stop_!"

"Maybe it's not you," he glanced at the two women, "Maybe it's you."

He focused his entire attention on Tammi, who looked upset and scared, "I don't even know what he's talking about, what are you even talking about?"

"I mean, all of you, everyone in your little coven, you've all had runs of good fortune, news worthy good fortune, except for you _Tammi_," Sam countered, "Now tell me, why _is_ that? You didn't want anything for yourself? Or is it because you're already getting what you wanted, like these women's souls."

"I can't...I...I'm not...I...I...I don't..." Tammi began, before sighing and putting her hands down. She morphed from this upset and startled woman, to a calm, smirking demon, black eyes and all.

"Nice dick work Magnum," Tammi's smirk grew.

"Let my brother go," Sam demanded once again.

"What's wrong, couldn't find my hex bag? Sorry, sweetheart, but your brother's lungs should be on the floor by now."

Sam fired the Colt, but the bullet stopped in midair when Tammi held up her hand, allowing it to fall to the floor.

Elizabeth gasped.

"You're in a lot of trouble Sam," Tammi sighed. She flung out her arm and both Sam and Michelle were pinned to the wall.

"Tammi, what's wrong with your eyes?" Elizabeth cried.

"She's a _demon_, idiot!" Michelle called, struggling with the invisible force holding her.

Tammi turned to look at Renee and Elizabeth, her eyes returning to normal.

"Tammi, what are you doing?" Renee asked.

"Renee, shut your painted hole," Tammi glared.

"What? I...I will...you can't...not in my house Tammi Fenton!"

"Renee don't!" Michelle called, but it was too late.

Tammi waved her right hand, snapping Renee's neck. She fell to the floor, dead, as Elizabeth screamed.

"Look, you got me, let the girl go," Sam called, trying to draw Tammi's attention to himself.

"Wait your turn young man," Tammi glanced over her shoulder, returning her attention to Elizabeth, who was now whimpering, "Shh, Lizzie, it's okay…"

"You're not Tammi," Elizabeth stuttered.

"No, but I'm wearing her meat. I had to break the ice with you girls somehow."

"You killed Renee."

"Renee, Amanda, that's what happens to witches who get voted off the island."

"Who _are_ you?"

"Funny story actually. You remember all those dark demonic forces you prayed to, when you swore your servitude? Just who did you think you were praying to?"

"This...this isn't...it can't be..."

"What did you _think_ it was?" Tammi cut in, growing annoyed, "Make believe? Positive thinking? The secret? No, it was _me_. You sold yourself to me, you pig," Elizabeth gasped in horror, "All I had to do was bring one good book to book club and you ladies lined up to kiss my ass."

"No, no, we didn't know…" Elizabeth sobbed.

"Oh, yes you did," Tammi smirked, "You knew every step of the way and now your ever living souls are mine," she turned back to Sam and Michelle, glancing at the girl before focusing her attention on Sam, "Comments? Questions? Hmm, Sammy Winchester, wow! Right here in our little town. You know, my friends and I, we've been looking for you."

"Why?" Sam asked, before rolling his eyes, "Oh, right, 'cause I'm supposed to lead some piss poor demon army."

Tammi glared, "No, not at all. You're not our Messiah, we don't believe in you. But...there's a new leader rising in the west, a _real_ leader. That's the horse to bet on Sam, the one who's gonna tear this world apart. Thing is, this demon, it doesn't like you very much, doesn't want the competition."

Michelle's brow furrowed as she listened to what Tammi was saying. There was another demon out there, one after Sam? A powerful one it seemed.

Just _great_.

Tammi raised her hand, sliding Sam up the wall, suspending him against it, much like Michelle was, "Nothing personal, it's a P.R. thing, so, buh bye."

"Sam!" Michelle called as Tammi starting to crush Sam into the wall, the paint and plaster cracking as she did so. Michelle managed to kick her right foot against the wall, extending the blade out of the toe of her shoe and kicked if off at Tammi. Her aim rang true as it sliced across Tammi's arm.

Tammi, distracted, allowed Sam to slide down the wall again, though still pinned. She turned to glare at Michelle, "You bitch!" she called, storming over to the woman, clenching her fist as Michelle began struggling for air, feeling as though she was being strangled, Sam straining against the magic, trying to help her.

Suddenly the front door flew open and Dean rushed in, shotgun in hand. Tammi flicked her wrist, sending him flying over the couch and pinning him to the wall as well.

"Three for one," she commented, smiling, "Lovely."

"Wait!" a voice called as Ruby entered, holding her hands up, interrupting Tammi's rampage, "Please, I just came to talk," she slowly put her hands down.

"You made it out of the Gate, impressive," Tammi raised an eyebrow, "That was a bitch of a fight wasn't it?"

"Doors outta Hell only open for so long."

"What do you want Ruby?" Tammie asked, getting to the point.

"I've been lost without you, take me back," she half-begged, "That's why I led the Winchesters here."

Dean glared at her, before looking at his brother, mouthing 'I told you so.'

"They're for you, as a gift," she explained.

Tammi frowned suspiciously, "Really?"

Ruby nodded, "Let me serve you again, I've wanted it, I've wanted you for so long."

"You _were_ one of my best," Tammi nodded in thought. She glanced at Ruby for a moment before Ruby pulled out her knife and tried to stab the woman. Unfortunately Tammi caught her arm midair, "But then again, you always were a lying whore."

Tammi threw the knife to the side, to the floor, but Ruby didn't give up. She began to fight Tammi, hand-to-hand, but didn't last long as Tammi managed to clothesline her onto her back. She walked over to the fireplace and pulled out a poker, going back to Ruby.

Michelle managed to get Elizabeth's attention, nodding purposefully towards a table with a hex bag on it.

"You're really telling me you threw in your chips with the three amigos here?" Tammi asked Ruby, smacking her across the face with the poker when she tried to get up.

Tammi was so focused on Ruby that she didn't even notice Elizabeth run to the altar and dump a bag of pins onto a cloth with demonic symbols on it.

"Come on, get up," Tammi mocked Ruby, who lay unmoving, "I said _get up_!" she tossed the poker away and crouched down, pulling Ruby up by her collar, "We've been here before haven't we?" she laughed, looking up at Sam, "She didn't tell you?" she smirked down at Ruby, "Pretty mortifying I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, _long_ time ago. Ruby here was a witch. Of course that was when you were human."

Dean and Sam looked surprised, but Michelle wasn't paying attention, she was focused on Elizabeth, now chanting at the altar.

Tammie threw Ruby on the debris of the bookcase and stood up, "Didn't want your friends to know that all those centuries back you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing I guess, but don't worry love, no secrets where you're heading remember?" she began to chant, her eyes turning black as smoke rose from Ruby's mouth and hovered inches above her.

She suddenly began to cough, Elizabeth's chanting starting to work. She coughed harder, Dean, Sam, and Michelle falling away from the walls, falling to the ground as Tammi coughed up a handful of long pins. She whipped around to see Elizabeth at the altar and clenched her fist, stopping Elizabeth's heart. Suddenly she gasped as Dean snuck up behind her and stabbed her repeatedly with Ruby's knife, unfortunately killing the human Tammi along with the demon inside her. Dean glanced over at Ruby before looking at Sam, who was being helped up by Michelle.

The trio moved towards the door, looking back at Ruby, kneeling on the floor, "Go," she said, wiping the blood away from her mouth, unable to look them in the eye, "I'll clean up this mess."

Dean walked to the door and stopped just outside as Michelle helped Sam. They looked back at Ruby once more, her eyes turning black as she glared at them, "Go!"

They turned and walked out, not looking back again.

~8~

In the motel room that night, Sam stood in front of the mirror, splashing water on his face while Dean went for a walk outside. He looked up in the mirror, seeing Michelle's reflection lying sprawled out on her side of the bed. He turned around and walked into the room, kneeling at her side, and brushing a hair away from her face, a worried expression on his face. He'd nearly died at the hands of a demon tonight, but worse yet, Michelle had earned her wrath as well and nearly been killed in front of him. If it hadn't been for Dean bursting in when he did…he didn't even want to_ think_ about that. He _never_ wanted Michelle in that position again, he never wanted to feel that fear ever again.

He gently got onto the other side of the bed and reached forward, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest. He breathed in her scent, allowing himself to drift off to sleep, not even caring what Dean would say when he came in and saw them like that.

A/N: Aww sweet :) Lol, what will Dean say to seeing them cuddling?

Just a few notes...I am so looking forward to the GhostFacers too, they're just so ridiculous lol. And Michelle's hunting clothes tend to include a slightly long coat, imagine something like the 10th Doctor's coat from DW but to her knees, so it just covers the weapons attached to her upper legs :)


	8. Dream a Little Dream of Me

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Michelle and Dean walked quickly towards the local bar, Dean had come to her as she finished up in the laundromat asking if she knew where Sam was. She'd been shocked as Sam had told her he and Dean were catching a drink while she did the laundry, knowing she wasn't a fan of drinking since the death of her parents. When she'd told him that, Dean had turned and stormed out, Michelle following closely behind him. He got into the Impala, her in the front seat, throwing the laundry into the back as they sped off towards the bar.

They saw Sam as soon as they entered, sitting at a table, nursing a drink. Michelle walked around him, sitting across from him, her heart breaking at the sight of his sad and hopeless face. He seemed a bit drunk.

"There you are," Dean sighed, sitting down next to his brother, "What are you doing?"

Sam looked over at him, "Having a drink," he slurred, now they _knew_ he was drunk.

"It's 2 in the afternoon," Michelle said softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm, "And you're drinking whiskey. Are you alright?"

"I drink whiskey all the time," he mumbled.

"No, you don't," Dean argued.

"What's the big deal?" he half-shouted, getting angry at all the questioning, "You get sloppy in bars, you hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?"

Dean and Michelle looked around the room, only to see an older woman sitting at the bar, not good-looking at all. Michelle managed to hide a snort at that. The woman was most certainly nothing like the women Dean usually picked up and, after having traveled with them a couple months now, she knew that better than anyone.

"It does have slim pickings around here," Dean commented, turning back to his brother in concern, "What's going on with you?"

Sam just shook his head, not speaking for a while, a completely lost look in his face, "I _tried_, Dean."

Dean looked at him, confused, glancing at Michelle, who also seemed confused, "To do what?" she asked for him.

"To save him."

Dean sighed, calling over to the bartender, "Could I get a whiskey, double, neat."

"I'm serious, Dean."

"No, you're drunk."

"I mean, where you're going...what you're gonna become," Sam continued, looking close to tears, Michelle squeezed his arm in comfort, "I can't stop it. I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is…no one can save you."

"That's what I've been _telling_ you," Dean rolled his eyes.

Michelle glared at him, "You should never say that Sam," she turned back to the man, "Somehow, there _has_ to be a way to stop it."

"No, that's not what I mean," he complained, "I mean, no one can save him because he doesn't wanna be saved," he looked at his brother, "I mean, how can you care so little about yourself?" Dean scoffed and smiled at his brother being so out of it, "What's _wrong_ with you?"

Dean looked over at Sam, about to answer, when Michelle's phone began to ring. She blushed for interrupting what she hoped was about to be a touching brother-brother moment and answered, "Hello?" she frowned, "Yes, this is Miss Mason," her eyes widened, "What?!" she glanced over at the boys, "Where?" then nodded, "Yes, I'm on my way."

"What?" Dean asked, sensing it was serious as she flipped her phone closed.

"We gotta go," she stated, getting up, moving around the table to help Sam up as well, ignoring his small cry of 'hey!'.

"Why?" Dean continued, pulling out his keys as they quickly left the bar, "What happened?"

"Bobby," was all she had to say to get the boys in gear.

If something was wrong with Bobby, it didn't matter what, they would be there.

~8~

They drove all night, Michelle repeating what she'd been told to Sam once he was coherent again, that Bobby was in the hospital after being found by a maid at a motel, asleep and unable to wake up.

That was how they found themselves in the hospital room, standing at Bobby's bedside.

"So, what's the diagnosis?" Sam asked the doctor as Michelle stepped forward and took Bobby's hand in her own.

"We've tested everything we can think to test," the doctor sighed, flipping through his papers, "He seems perfectly healthy."

"Except that he's comatose," Dean commented.

"Miss Mason, you're his emergency contact," the doctor glanced at Michelle, "Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"

She shook her head, "No, he...he _never_ gets sick. I mean, he doesn't even catch cold."

"Doctor, is there _anything_ you can do?" Sam asked, seeing the glum faces of his brother and Michelle.

"Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it...so we don't know how to treat it," the doctor informed them, "He just...went to sleep and didn't wake up."

Dean, Sam, and Michelle shared a look before glancing down at Bobby, that sounded completely supernatural. They soon left the hospital, after checking the records on where Bobby had been found, to go investigate. They entered the motel room the man had been renting and began looking around.

"So, what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?" Sam asked out loud.

"Unless he's taking an extremely lame vacation..." Dean trailed, shutting the door.

"He must have been working a job," Michelle answered, walking around the room.

"Well, you think there'd be some sort of sign of something, you know?" Dean commented as he and Sam looked in the dressers, trying to find _something_, but it was empty, "Research, news clippings," Michelle walked over to the closet while Dean continued speaking, "Or a frigging pizza box or a beer can…"

Michelle opened the closet, seeing clothes hanging there. With their lifestyle, staying short amounts of time and leaving quickly, it made no sense to hang clothes up unless you were trying to hide something. She smirked, "How about this?" she pushed the clothes out of the way to reveal various news clippings, maps, and pictures taped to the wall behind it.

There were pictures of roots, mushrooms, seeds, as well as a map of Pittsburgh. Post-its were stuck up with addresses and numbers and notes about plants.

Dean couldn't help but laugh at that, "Good old Bobby, always covering up his tracks."

Sam looked at Michelle, who was frowning at the wall in thought, "You make heads or tails of any of this?"

Michelle reached out and pulled off a note, "Silene Capensis," she read aloud.

"Which of course means absolutely nothing to me," Dean commented.

Michelle shook her head, "It's a plant…" her brow furrowed, "I swear I've heard of it before but…I'm blanking," she looked up at Sam, "Can I borrow your laptop?"

He nodded, handing it over to her as he reached out to take some of the clippings off the wall, "Obits," he said, skimming it, "Dr. Walter Gregg, 64, university neurologist."

"How'd he bite it?" Dean asked, staring at the wall.

"Um…actually, they don't know," Sam frowned, "They say he just went to sleep and didn't wake up."

"That sound familiar to you?" Dean took the clipping and read it for himself.

"Alright, um...so let's say Bobby was looking into the doc's death. You know, hunting after something…"

Dean looked up at him, "That started hunting him."

Sam nodded, "Yeah."

"Alright, stay here with Michelle. See if you can make heads or tails of this."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Look into the good doctor myself," he smirked, walking towards the door.

"Oh no you're not," Michelle said, getting up from the small table she'd started working on.

"Excuse me?" Dean turned to face her.

"I found the flower, it's also known as African Dream Root," she continued, grabbing her coat, "That's more than enough to get Sam going, I'm going with you."

Dean stared at her a moment, half-glaring at her. During all their hunts it had been almost an unspoken agreement between the two that, whenever Dean went out to investigate, she would stay with Sam. He opened his mouth to retort to that, when he thought better of it. This was _Bobby_, things were different with him, and judging by the little hug he'd seen the man give Michelle before they left on their first hunt, he assumed she had as close a relationship with Bobby as they did. If she wanted to go with him, to look into people involved rather than reading up on a flower, he could allow it...just this once.

He nodded, walking out the door as she smiled and followed after him.

~8~

The first person they checked out was Dr. Gregg, he was really their only lead as of yet. The man's office was still cluttered with boxes of items and papers ready for storage or shipping when Dean and Michelle entered with a young woman.

"So you're Dr. Gregg's lab assistant?" Dean asked.

"That's right," the assistant, Sanders, replied.

"His death must have come as a shock to you," Michelle commented.

"Yeah, it did," Sanders nodded, watching as they looked around the room, "But, still, go in your sleep, peaceful...that's what you wish for, right?"

"Yeah," Dean said a bit sarcastically, "Right," he looked down at a book on Gregg's desk while Michelle lifted a folder and sorted through it, "Dr. Gregg uh…studied sleeping disorders?" he held the book up, "Dreams?"

"I don't understand. I went over all of this with the other detective."

Michelle glanced up, curious, "You already spoke to another detective?"

"Yes. A very nice older man with a beard."

Michelle and Dean looked at each other, understanding it had been Bobby, "Well, we'd love to hear it again, if you don't mind," Michelle tried.

"Thing is, I'm sort of busy," Sanders rolled her eyes, "Maybe we could do this later?"

"Sure, yeah," Dean nodded, "Just bring you down to the station later this afternoon," Sanders's face fell, "Get your statement on tape, do it all official-like."

Sanders sighed, "Look, ok, I didn't know about Dr. Gregg's experiments. Not until I was cleaning out his files."

"His experiments?" Michelle asked, confused, "The ones he was conducting on sleeping?"

"No one knew, ok? Not the university, not anybody. I already spoke with a lawyer and he told me I can't be held liable for anything."

"Maybe you couldn't, but that was before the new evidence came to light," Dean commented.

"New evidence?" Sanders raised an eyebrow, almost worriedly.

"Mhmm," Dean nodded.

"What new evidence?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Dean smirked.

Sanders sighed, "Look, I'm just a grad student, this was a gig to cover tuition."

"Maybe so. But, uh, still this...this...this could go on your permanent record. Unless you hand over the doctor's research to us. All of it."

~8~

"I can't believe that worked," Michelle commented as they walked towards the dorm room of their next connection, one Jeremy Frost, a test subject of Gregg's, "I mean, 'this could go on your permanent record?' I don't think those reach to college."

Dean shrugged, "Who knows, but at least it worked," he looked at her, smirking, before knocking on the door.

Moments later a boy opened it, Dean and Michelle pulled out their badges, reading Pittsburgh police department.

Jeremy stepped back, allowing them to come in, "Look, I don't know what the RA said, but, ah, I was growing ferns."

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Take it easy, Phish, that's not why we're here."

Jeremy eyed them, "Really?"

Michelle reached into her bag and pulled out a file they'd gotten from Sanders, holding it before him.

Recognizing the file, Jeremy breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh, thank God. Ok."

"We wanna talk to you about Dr. Gregg's sleep study," Michelle stated.

"Yeah. Dr. Gregg just died, right?"

"You were one of his test subjects, right?" Dean continued.

"Yeah," Jeremy reached into the fridge and held up three beers, "Unless you're on duty or whatever?"

"I don't drink," Michelle replied.

Jeremy nodded and looked towards Dean, who considered it for a second. He looked at Michelle, who just rolled her eyes at him. He smirked, "I guess I can make an exception."

He took the bottle from Jeremy, who put the other bottle away and handed him the bottle opener. They held their beers up in salute before taking a swig of it.

"Now, Dr. Gregg was testing treatments for a, uh, 'Charcot-Wilbrand syndrome?'" Dean asked, after reveling in the first sip of the beer, "Which means..."

"Um…I uh…I can't dream," Jeremy admitted. Dean just stared at him with a confused expression, "I had this bike accident when I was a kid and banged my head pretty good and I haven't had a dream since. Till the study. You know. Sort of."

"What did Dr. Gregg give you?" Michelle glanced through the files, trying to make it seem like she was looking for the information.

"It's this yellow tea," Jeremy made a disgusted face, "It…it smelled _awful_, tasted worse."

"What did it do?" Dean continued.

"Just passed right out. And uh, I had the most vivid, super-intense dream. Like a bad acid trip, you know?"

"Totally," Dean nodded, smirking, before Michelle elbowed him in the gut, "I mean, no."

"That was it. I dropped out of the study right after that. I didn't...like it. To tell you the truth...it kind of scared me."

~8~

Dean and Michelle were back in the hospital, sitting at Bobby's bedside. Dean was looking at him, thoughtful, while Michelle leaned against the wall, reading a file. They'd called Sam on the way there and were just waiting on him to arrive.

When Sam entered the room, his eyes immediately travelled to Michelle, roving over her for a moment before he shook himself out of it and walked over to the bed, sitting across from his brother, "How is he?"

Dean rubbed his hand over his face and looked down at Bobby, "No change," he answered, "You got anything?"

"Well, considering what Michelle told me about the doc's experiments," Sam sighed, "Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense."

"How so?" Michelle looked up at him, hearing this.

Sam held up a picture of a plant from a folder he'd brought of the clippings from the wall. Michelle stepped forward, resting a hand on Dean's shoulder to get a better look over Bobby.

Sam caught himself before he could glare at his brother for the fact that Michelle was partially leaning over him. He shook his head again, "This plant, Silene Capensis, you said it was also called African Dream Root. It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries."

"Let me guess," Dean cut in, "They dose up, bust out didgeridoos, start kicking around the hacky."

Sam frowned, "Not quite. If you believe the legends, it's used for dream walking."

"I _knew_ I recognized it!" Michelle exclaimed, "It's used for entering another person's dreams, poking around in their heads."

Sam nodded as Dean sighed, "I take it we believe the legends?"

"When don't we?" Sam countered, "But dream walking is just the tip of the iceberg."

"What do you mean?"

Sam picked up another paper filled with information about the root, "I mean, this Dream Root is some serious mojo. You take enough of it, with practice, you can become a regular Freddy Krueger," they looked down at Bobby, "You can control anything. You could turn bad dreams good, you could turn good dreams bad."

"And kill people in their sleep?" Michelle guessed.

Sam nodded, "For example."

Dean sighed, reaching behind him to put a hand on Michelle's.

This time Sam _did_ glare a little, "So let's say uh, let's say this doc was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary-style."

"Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, he goes nighty-night," Dean concluded.

"What about Bobby?" Michelle cut in, "I mean, if the killer came after him, how come he's still alive?"

"I don't know," Sam shook his head.

They stared at the man on the bed a moment longer before Dean got up and headed out of the room, Sam and Michelle behind him, "So how do we find our homicidal sandman?"

"Could be anyone," Sam replied.

"Yeah?" Dean looked at him.

"Yeah."

"Anyone who knew the doctor and had access to his dream shrooms?"

"Maybe one of his test subjects or something?" Sam glanced at Michelle who looked into the files.

"It's possible," she said, flipping through the pages, "But his research was pretty sketchy. It doesn't say how many subjects he had or who all of them were."

Sam scoffed, drawing Dean's attention, "What?"

Sam let out a breathy laugh, "Any other case, we'd be calling Bobby and asking him for help right now."

Dean looked at him for a moment, just as a thought crossed his mind. He grabbed Sam's arm, stopping Michelle as well, and looked at them, wide eyed, "You know what? You're right."

"What?" Michelle looked at him, not understanding.

"Let's go talk to him."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, "Sure, I think we might find the conversation a bit one-sided."

"Not if we're tripping on some Dream Root," Dean smirked.

"What?" Michelle repeated.

"You heard me."

"You wanna go dream walking inside Bobby's head?" Sam tried.

Dean rolled his eyes at how slow the two smartest people he knew could be, "Why not? Maybe we could help."

"Do you have any idea how _dangerous_ that could be?" Michelle stared at him as though he'd gone insane.

Sam nodded, "We have no idea what's crawling around in there."

"How bad could it be?" Dean shrugged.

"Bad," they both replied.

Dean paused a moment, eyeing the two of them, "It's Bobby."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam said as Michelle nodded, "One problem though. We're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless you know someone who can score some it..."

"Crap," Dean said suddenly.

"What?"

"Bela."

"Bela?" Michelle asked incredulously.

Sam scoffed, "Crap."

"You're actually _suggesting_ that we ask _her_ for a _favor_?" Michelle shook her head at the oldest Winchester.

He nodded, "I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah."

He walked away, not noticing how Sam and Michelle didn't immediately follow. They sent each other a look before sighing and rushing after Dean.

~8~

Sam was sitting by his laptop when there was a knock on the door. He closed it, sighing, and got up to answer. He opened the door a few inches, only to open it completely when he saw who it was.

"Sorry," Michelle said as she stepped into the room, "I forgot my key."

"No problem," he smiled at her. He closed the door as she stopped and turned to face him. He turned around to find that Michelle was standing right behind him. He jumped a bit, his back hitting the door.

She stepped forward, pressing herself against him, his breath caught in his throat, "You ok Sam?"

He looked down at her face before his eyes travelled lower, able to _just_ see down her shirt, before sending his eyes skyward, "F-Fine," he stuttered.

"Are you sure?" she stepped closer, something he didn't think was possible, and rested her palm against his cheek.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked, trying to distract himself from her scent which was invading his senses, a mixture of apples and roses.

"You're hot," she replied, tilting her head to look at him.

"W-What?" he asked, gulping.

"You feel really warm," she clarified, rubbing her thumb across his cheek. The sensation alone was enough to remove Sam's ability to speak, he'd _never_ felt this way before, not even with his late-girlfriend Jessica.

He found himself slowly leaning towards her as she moved towards him as well. Soon their lips met, both of them breathing in with the kiss as Sam rested a hand on her arm while she moved one to rest on his waist. The kiss slowly grew in passion, neither willing to break it until air became an issue. They parted, breathing heavily. Sam looked down to see Michelle looking up at him, a desire in her eyes that he was sure was mirrored in his own.

"Are you sure?" he asked her, knowing the question would lead to something they both seemed to want.

Michelle just smirked and pulled him away from the door and towards the bed. She sat down on the edge of it, pulling him over her as they crawled back onto it. He leaned forward and began to kiss her again, more passionate than they were on the door, more comfortable and free with his hands than he ever thought he should be. But from the sounds Michelle was making, she didn't seem to mind.

The next thing he knew, they were wildly exploring each other's bodies, Michelle moaning his name just as he reached down to lift her shirt up…

"Sam!" Dean's voice cut in, "Wake up!"

Sam jerked awake at his brother's yell to find that he had fallen asleep on the desk in the motel room. He quickly sat up, wiping his face with the back of his hand, realizing it was covered with drool. He wiped it with his other hand, hearing a small snigger from behind him.

"You were out like a light Sammy," Michelle's voice drifted over to him.

He stiffened in his seat at the sound, his breath catching in his throat when he recalled the breathy moans he had gotten out of her in his dream.

"You were making some serious happy noises," Dean added.

Sam could practically hear the grin in his brother's voice. He tried to calm his heart, not daring to look at the two of them, or in reality, catch a glimpse of Michelle, he wasn't sure he could control himself after that dream.

"Who were you dreaming about?" Dean continued.

"What?" Sam's voice cracked, "No one. Nothing."

Dean laughed, "Come on, you can tell me."

"Angelina Jolie?" Michelle supplied, knowing most men found her attractive.

"No," he closed his eyes, trying to will himself deaf to her voice.

"Brad Pitt?" Dean smirked.

This time Sam _did_ turn around, though over his left shoulder which made it hard, but not impossible to see Michelle sitting on his right, "No. No. Dude, it doesn't matter."

"Whatever," Dean looked back down at the Sam's laptop, most likely on one of his busty beauty websites.

"Whatever," Sam mumbled to himself.

"Dean called Bela," Michelle called to him.

"She uh, gonna help us?" Sam cleared his throat, willing himself not to turn to the right and look at Michelle, which his body was _begging_ him to do.

"Shockingly, no, which puts us back to square one," Dean called.

Sam nearly groaned when he heard the bed springs move as Michelle shifted on the bed. He could hear some papers shift, the notes from Dr. Gregg's files.

"I've been trying to decipher the doctor's notes," she told him, "Unfortunately, according to Dean, he has worse handwriting than you do."

Sam remained sitting, he could feel eyes on his back as Michelle looked over at him.

She frowned, usually Sam would have reacted at that, "You wanna help me with this?"

Sam glanced around the room before looking down at his…problem, "Yeah, yeah," he called, not turning back, "Just…give me a sec," he began shifting in his seat as though he were stretching.

Michelle looked over at Dean, a confused and slightly hurt look on her face, the man just shrugged and shook his head, not knowing what was going on with his brother either.

There was a knock on the door.

Michelle and Dean looked at each other again while Sam glanced at the door. Dean, guessing his brother wasn't going to get up any time soon, walked over and opened it a few inches before opening it completely, looking very annoyed.

"Bela," Dean greeted, rolling his eyes, "As I live and breathe."

Bela walked in, wearing a black trench coat, and lookeed around the room, "_You_ called _me_. Remember?"

"I remember you turning me down."

"Well, I'm just full of surprises."

"Hello Bela," Michelle said flatly, not warm at all. Sam just waved awkwardly, trying not to look at anyone in the room while covering some things up.

"I brought you your African Dream Root," she held up a jar and handed it to Dean, "Nasty stuff and not easy to come by," she dropped her bag on the TV and opened her coat.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Michelle asked, leaning forward on the bed, her elbows on her knees and her head resting on her hands.

Sam chose that unfortunate moment to glance at her, regretting it immediately as he peeked down her shirt. He quickly looked away, earning a confused glance from Dean.

"What?" Bela asked, "I can't do you a little favor every now and again?"

"No, you can't," Dean replied.

Bela dropped the coat, revealing her designer garb.

"So what strings are attached this time?" Michelle stood from the bed and moved to face Bela, her back to Sam, who visibly relaxed now that he couldn't see her front anymore.

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right?" Bela looked at them, Dean nodded, "Well, I'm doing it for him. Not you."

Dean eyed her, suspicious, "Bobby? Why?"

"He saved my life once," she shrugged, "In Flagstaff," Dean looked at Michelle and Sam, who just shrugged. She sighed, "I screwed up and he saved me, ok? You satisfied?"

"Maybe."

"So when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?" she continued, looking at Dean, who was looking at the jar.

Dean smirked, "Oh, _you're_ not going anywhere. I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head. No offense," he walked over to the closet and put the jar in the safe where the Colt was.

"None taken," she said, watching him.

Michelle narrowed her eyes, seeing how intently Bela _was_ watching him.

Dean quickly closed the safe and locked it, entering the room again.

"It's 2 am, where am I supposed to go?" she asked, annoyed.

"Get a room," Michelle shrugged.

Dean smirked, "Ah, they got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay-per-view. You'll love it."

Bela glared, "You..." she grabbed her bag and coat, completely offended, and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

A moment later Dean grabbed his jacket.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked, tensing, his leg starting to bob at the thought of being left alone with Michelle, especially after that dream. He shouldn't be alone with her, not now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to control himself.

"I'm going keep tabs on her," he smirked, "Keep your enemies close. Be back in a few."

He was out the door before Sam could even reply. He sighed, dropping his head for a moment, only to look up and see that Michelle was now staring at him.

"Are you ok Sam?" she asked, crossing her arms and looking at him worriedly.

He glanced down at his problem, now back in full force as the dream seemed to almost be playing out, "F-fine," he stuttered.

"Are you sure?" she took a step closer to him, holding out a hand. He jumped out of his seat, immediately pressing himself against the door.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked, eyeing her.

"You…you looked a bit flush," she replied, tilting her head, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't warm."

She reached out again to try and see if he had a fever but Sam bolted from the room, running outside before she could even react. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened as she looked at the, now wide open, door. She walked over to it, looking out but not seeing any sign of Sam.

She frowned as she shut the door, what was wrong with him?

~8~

It was about an hour before Sam came back to the room. He paused when he saw Michelle sitting by the table, reading. She looked up when he stepped in and they stared at each other for a few moments, about to speak, when Dean entered the room, commenting that Bela had gotten a room in a fancy hotel a few blocks away.

Sam shook his head and silently went to prepare the root. A few minutes later he walked back with three glass cups of liquid containing the Dream Root. Dean was sitting on the side of his bed, waiting until Sam handed him a cup, and turned to give Michelle hers. He paused when he saw she was sitting on the couch and not her side of the bed. He sighed inwardly to himself, unable to blame her after the way he acted, handing her a glass as well. He sat down on his bed with the final cup, his eyes still on Michelle.

Dean looked back and forth between his brother and Michelle, sensing the tension he cleared his throat, "Uh, should we dim the lights and synch up 'Wizard of Oz' to 'Dark Side of the Moon?'"

Sam and Michelle looked at him, Michelle with a confused expression and Sam with a small smile, "Why?"

Dean looked at his brother, disappointed, "What did you _do_ during college?"

Sam shot him a look, shaking his head. Dean went to drink from it when Michelle stopped him, "Wait, wait, wait, don't we need Bobby's essence?" Sam looked at her, stunned, not sure how she knew that, "I didn't have much else to do but research," she commented with just a hint of sadness and hurt in her voice.

Sam nodded, pulling out a small brown envelope. He reached in and put a few pieces of hair on Dean's hand, getting up to give some to Michelle as well.

"What the hell is that?" Dean looked down at his hand.

"Bobby's hair," Sam replied, sitting back down.

"We have to _drink_ Bobby's _hair_?" Dean looked disgusted at that.

"That's how you control whose dream you're entering," Michelle explained, already sprinkling her pieces of hair into her drink, "You have to drink some of their uh...some of their body."

Dean grimaced, "Well, guess the hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body," he put the hairs in as did Sam before raising his glass, "Bottoms up."

Michelle raised hers, "Cheers."

"Yeah," Sam added, before they all downed it.

It was difficult to do, the boys had trouble swallowing it.

Dean looked over at Michelle, smacking his mouth due to the God awful taste, it was much worse than Ruby's witchcraft potion that had saved him from Tammi's spell, only to see the woman frowning but not showing any other sign of disgust, "How the hell'd you do that?"

She shrugged, "Believe it or not, I've tasted worse."

Dean shook his head, looking around the room, which hadn't changed at all, "Feel anything?" he looked at them.

"No," Sam mumbled, glancing at Michelle, "You feel anything?"

She glanced away from him, shaking her head.

"Maybe we got some bad shwag," Dean thought out loud.

Suddenly thunder sounded and rain began pattering against the windows. Sam looked over at the window, confused. Michelle, being the closest, got up.

"Hey, when did it start raining?" Sam asked.

"When did it start raining _upside down_?" Michelle countered, looking out the window. She glanced at the boys as Dean got up to look as well, she held back the curtains for him to see that it was raining up towards the sky.

They turned back to Sam, noticing that the colors of the room seemed to have faded away and they were no longer in the motel room. They were standing in a house, in a very neat and tidy living room, that looked vaguely familiar.

"Ok, I don't know what's weirder," Dean began, "The fact that we're in Bobby's head or that he's dreaming of 'Better Homes and Gardens.'"

Dean glanced at Sam, who was looking around the room, frowning, "Wait. Wait a sec. Imagine the place without the paint job…" Sam began gesturing around the room, "More cluttered, dusty, books all over the place."

"It's Bobby's house!" Michelle exclaimed, seeing it.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, now able to imagine it. It looked like new, "Bobby?" he called in a semi-hushed voice.

The trio continued walking around the living room, Sam pausing every now and then and looking over his shoulder as though he felt someone looking at him.

"Bobby?" Michelle whispered, walking past the stairs.

Sam glanced at the door to the yard, "Dean," he whispered, getting his brother and Michelle's attention, "I'm gonna go look outside."

"No, no, no, stay close," Dean hissed back.

"Dude, I'll be fine. Just, look around in here. Look, we _gotta_ find him."

"I'll go with you," Michelle added quietly, walking over to him.

Before Sam could refuse, Dean cut in, "Don't do anything stupid."

Sam nodded and walked to the door, opening it for Michelle before walking past it himself. It was much different outside than inside, for one thing there was color and it wasn't dark, not with the sun shining as brightly as it was. The house looked like it had just been painted, the flowers were in bloom, and the birds were chirping. It was all very idealistic.

"Wasn't it just raining?" Michelle spoke what he was thinking.

Sam nodded, looking around to see Bobby's car, looking good as new, sitting in the driveway. He took a step towards the steps of the porch, when the door to the house slammed shut, causing both of them to jump. Michelle walked towards it and tried to open it but it was locked.

"Dean!" Michelle called, banging on the door, but there was no reply. She turned to shake her head at Sam who, spotting a window, made his way towards it.

He started banging on the window and the wall around it while looking in, "Dean!" he called, seeing his brother, but Dean made no indication he'd heard the calling or banging, "Dean!" he tried once more, but to no avail. He stood up and looked over at Michelle, shaking his head as well.

They turned and walked around the porch to the backyard. There was a little pond set up with beautiful flowers around it. He glanced at Michelle, who nodded slowly, and they made their way off the porch to explore the backyard. There was a clothesline set up with drying sheets blowing in the wind.

"You ever see Bobby do laundry like this?" Sam glanced back at Michelle.

She began to shake her head, when her eyes widened, "Sam!"

He turned back around just in time to see a man appear and swing a bat at him, hitting him hard in the chest and shoulder, sending him falling to the ground. Michelle moved to hit the man she recognized as Jeremy, when he grabbed her arm and bashed the bat into her side, sending her, grunting, to the ground, clutching her ribs.

"Who are you?" Sam demanded.

"Who are _you_?" Jeremy countered, "You don't belong here."

"You're one to talk," Sam groaned, moving to sit up, "You're in my friend's head."

"You got a poor choice in friends," Jeremy glared, "This is self-defense. He came after me. He wanted to _hurt_ me."

"Maybe because you're a killer," Michelle ground out.

Jeremy's eyes widened as he recognized her, "You!" he slowly smirked, "You should be nicer to me. In here...you're just an insect. I'm a _god_. Sweet dreams," he raised his bat, ready to strike Sam, seeing him as the bigger threat when…

A shot rang out and Jeremy turned to see Michelle holding a gun, aimed right at him. He looked down to see a hole in his side, blood starting to leak from it, unfortunately, it had only been a grazing wound as he had moved to raise the bat when she fired.

He looked at her, about to swing the bat at her head when…

Michelle jolted awake on the couch, quickly sitting up to see Sam and Dean waking up just as violently. She let out a breath, resting her head against the back of the couch.

That had been a close one.

~8~

"Hey Bobby!" Michelle smiled as she entered the hospital room with Sam, having run into him on his way from checking out Jeremy's dorm room. Dean was already in there. She'd come with Dean but left to get some things for Bobby, "Got something for you," she walked over to him, glancing at the door, before quickly pulling an ice cold beer from a brown paper bag, popping the top off and handing it to him.

Bobby grinned at her, "You're an angel," he said before downing the beer in one go, not wanting to risk the doctors seeing him.

She just laughed, taking the beer back and hiding it in her bag again while Dean shook his head, grinning.

"So, uh, stoner boy wasn't in his dorm," Sam said quietly, "My guess is he's long gone by now."

"He ain't much of a stoner," Bobby commented, picking up a picture of Jeremy from a file Dean had given him.

"No?" Dean asked.

"No. His name's Jeremy Frost. Full-on genius. 160 IQ."

"187," Michelle commented offhandedly. The boys stared at her, wide eyed, "I was curious!" she defended.

Bobby shook his head, "Your dad take a baseball bat to your head?" she shook her head while Bobby pulled out another paper and handed it to Sam, "Here's Father-of-the-Year."

Sam looked at the picture, a copy of Henry David Frost's driver's license. Michelle looked at it as well, tilting her head thoughtfully as though something had just occurred to her.

"He died before Jeremy was 10," Bobby said.

"Looks like a real sweetheart," Sam muttered.

"Injury gave him Charcot-Wilbrand, he hasn't dreamt since," Bobby continued as Sam handed him the picture back.

"Till he started dosing the dream drug," Dean added.

"Yep."

"How'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you?" Michelle asked, curiously. She'd caught the last bit of the conversation between Dean and Bobby just now, before Sam showed up. She already knew about Bobby's wife and how he got into hunting, the nightmare he'd been trapped in having him try not to kill his demonically-possessed wife.

"He was rooting around in my skull. God knows what he saw in there."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, before a thought struck him, "How'd he get in there in the first place? Isn't he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA or something?"

"Yeah," Dean added, he was curious about that as well.

"Yeah, before I knew it was him, he offered me a beer," Bobby shook his head, "I drank it. Dumbest frigging thing."

Michelle's eyes widened as she looked at Dean, almost accusingly.

Dean, seeing her look, tried to laugh but it came out as a nervous chuckle, "Oh, I don't know. It wasn't _that_ dumb."

Sam and Bobby looked at him, "Dean, you didn't…"

"He did," Michelle confirmed, shaking her head at him. Granted they didn't know it was Jeremy, but now, looking back on it…God were they stupid, him for drinking it and her for letting him.

"I was thirsty!" Dean defended.

"That's great, now he can come after either one of you," Sam said angrily, glaring at Dean and Michelle.

"Mickey didn't take the beer," Dean told him as Michelle punch him in the arm for calling her 'Mickey,' "She doesn't drink. And it's nothing to get riled up about, we just have to find him first."

Bobby sighed, realizing he was still a target, "We better work fast and coffee up. Because one thing we _cannot_ do is fall asleep."

~8~

Two days later Michelle realized a very important thing.

A sleep deprived Dean was _not_ a happy Dean.

He was speeding down the road that night, clearly pissed off over the whole ordeal, as Sam tried to calm him down from the passenger's seat and Michelle did research in the back, trying to track Jeremy on the laptop.

"I mean, this Jeremy guy's not a frigging ghost," Dean yelled back at her when she failed to find him within the hour she'd started looking, "Where the hell could he be?"

"Dean, you sure you don't want me to drive?" Sam cut in, "You seem a little..."

Dean glared at him.

"Caffeinated?" Michelle supplied.

"Thanks for the news flash, Edison," Dean nearly growled. His cell started to ring and he tried to get a hold of it but seemed to have a difficult time of it. Michelle would have laughed at the sight had he not been driving and clearly ready to bite someone's head off, "Tell me you got something," he demanded as he began a conversation with Bobby.

It didn't seem to be going well from what they could hear. Their last lead was a bust, they had no more leads, Bela wasn't being a help, and they had no idea what to do now. By the end of the conversation, Dean was angrier than he'd been before, something Michelle hadn't thought possible without someone threatening Sam.

Dean suddenly veered off the side of the road, onto a side road, and drove like a madman till they reached a clearing in the woods. He shut off the engine and got out of the car, sliding into the back with Michelle.

"The hell Dean?" she demanded as she closed the laptop so she'd have room.

"Alright, that's it," Dean grumbled, trying to stretch out with Michelle still squished to the side, "I'm done."

"What are you doing?" Sam looked over the seat.

Dean made himself comfortable, dropping his head onto Michelle's lap, "Taking myself a long-overdue nap."

"What?" Michelle stared at him, "Jeremy can come after you."

"That's the idea."

"Excuse me?" Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, not understanding why his brother was giving up.

"Come on man, we can't find him, so let him come to me."

"On his own turf? Where he's basically a god?"

"I can handle it."

Sam shook his head, "Not alone, you can't," he reached over and pulled out some of Dean's hair, ignoring his brother's cry of minor pain.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked him, watching as Sam pulled something out of a bag at his feet.

"Coming in with you," Sam commented.

"No, you're not."

"Why not? At least then it'll be two against one," he glanced at Michelle, "Three against one?"

She looked down at Dean and back to Sam before shaking her head, "Whatever happens to you in there, happens out here right?" she asked, Sam paused a moment before nodding, "If anything really bad happens, one of us should be awake to take care of the injuries, you know, CPR, among other things."

Sam paused, having not thought about that.

"Good," Dean replied, "Sam, follow her lead. I don't want you digging around in my head."

"Too bad," Sam answered, getting to work on making the drink.

It was finished in minutes and soon Sam and Dean were out like a light, leaving Michelle to watch over them. She bit her lip as she reached out and ran her fingers through Dean's hair, trying to calm him down when she felt his body tense. She kept glancing at Sam, seeing his face scrunch in determination, watching the emotions play across it as her only sign of whether they'd be needing help.

She watched as Dean's brow furrowed in determination, then confusion, and finally settling in something almost resembling fear. That was when something Sam said came back to her, Freddy Kruger. He'd scared his victims into staying awake for so long that when they did fall asleep they couldn't wake up even if they wanted to, their bodies just shut down.

"Shit!" she muttered before reaching out and taking Sam's partially finished cup from him. Adding just a bit more hair, she quickly downed it and sat back, waiting to be pulled into the dream.

She suddenly found herself in the hallway of the motel, just outside their room. She pressed her ear against the door, only to hear Dean speaking, "You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog."

She waited, expecting to hear Jeremy reply, but only heard Dean continue to speak, "That...that's not true."

"No?" Dean asked, "What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought? No. No, all there is…is 'watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother, boy!' You can still hear your dad's voice in your head, can't you? Clear as a bell."

"Just shut up," Dean replied.

It only took her a moment to come up with two solutions, either Dean was clearly losing his mind and talking to himself, or there were two Deans in there and he was…still talking to himself.

She reached down and tried to quietly turn the handle, feeling it give way, she continued to make slow work, she didn't want to alert one of the Deans to her presence.

"I mean, think about it...all he ever did was train you, boss you around. But Sam...Sam he _doted_ on. Sam, he _loved_."

That was 'Evil Dean' talking, she decided, as she got the handle to turn all the way and began to slowly open the door. She recalled it was a squeaky door.

"I mean it. I'm getting angry."

That was her Dean, 'Good Dean.'

"Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?"

"Son of a bitch!" she heard Good Dean yell and then a crash.

Forgetting about the door's squeak, she opened it wide and saw one Dean pushing another Dean to the floor and kicking him.

"My father was an obsessed bastard!" he began hitting the Dean on the floor before pinning him to the wall, "All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam. That was _his_ crap. _He's_ the one who couldn't protect his family. He…" he stepped back and swung at the other Dean, "_He's_ the one who let mom die. Who wasn't there for Sam? I _always_ was! He wasn't fair! I didn't _deserve_ what he put on me," he backed away from the other Dean as Michelle reached for her gun. From that little rant, she knew the one being attacked was the 'Evil Dean,' the real one had _a lot_ to get off his chest, "And I don't deserve to go to Hell!"

'Good Dean' raised his gun and shot the 'Evil Dean' twice in the chest, stumbling back afterwards. He took a few breaths and walked towards the dead body on the floor, when its eyes suddenly flickered open, completely black like a demon, and sat up.

"You can't escape me, Dean," it said, "You're gonna die. And this,_ this_ is what you're gonna become!" it lunged at him.

But before the real Dean could do anything, Michelle fired, nailing the demon with a bullet straight to the head.

It fell down dead.

Dean looked back at her to see her looking down at the demon with a hard look on her face before looking up at him.

"Get ready to wake up," she told him, "I'll get Sam."

Before he could argue, she was out the door. He ran to the hallway but saw no sign of her.

~8~

Jeremy was standing over Sam, holding a baseball bat, when Michelle managed to track them down.

"You can't stop me," Jeremy said, glaring at Sam, "There's _nothing_ I can't do in here."

Sam was panting, obviously having duked it out with the boy, "Because of the Dream Root."

"That's right," Jeremy smirked, but it faltered when he heard someone shouting at him in the distance.

"Jeremy!"

Jeremy turned around to see his father stalking towards him.

"Jeremy!"

"No," Jeremy begged, "No…" he looked at Sam, "How are you doing this?"

Sam just shook his head, not knowing what was going on.

"He's not," another voice called. They looked over to see Michelle standing there, "Dream Root works both ways Jeremy."

"You answer me when I'm talking to you, boy," his dad called, walking towards him.

Jeremy quickly backed away from Sam, trying to avoid his father as well. Michelle was at Sam's side in an instant, helping him up.

"No," Jeremy whimpered when he saw his father holding a bat.

"We need to leave Sam," Michelle said to him.

Sam looked at her and back to Jeremy, "You go, I'll handle this," she looked up at him hesitatingly, "I just want to make sure this stops him."

She nodded, slowly disappearing from the dream.

Jeremy shielded himself as his father went to swing at him, but felt no impact. He looked up to see his father wasn't there anymore. He turned around, only to be hit across the face by Sam, now wielding the bat.

Jeremy fell to the ground and Sam looked down at him, rolling in agony. He raised the bat, hesitating a moment before he recalled Jeremy doing the same thing, about to brutally strike Michelle.

That was all the incentive he needed to make sure the boy was stopped.

~8~

"So you did a little dream-weaving of your own in here, huh?" Bobby asked Sam and Michelle as they walked down the motel hallway towards the room.

Michelle nodded, "From what you said, I figured his worst fear was his father, so I just concentrated and it happened."

Bobby looked over at Sam, "And you finished him off?" he guessed. Sam looked down guiltily, "Didn't have anything to do with...you know, your psychic stuff?"

"No," Sam answered, "I mean, I don't think so."

"Good," Bobby nodded, "Good."

Sam quickly unlocked the door to the room, holding it open for the others to enter.

"Hey, you guys seen Bela?" Dean asked, turning around from inside the room, "She's not in her room. She's not answering her phone."

Michelle closed the door behind them as Sam replied, "She must've taken off or something."

"Just like that? It's a little weird."

"Yeah well, if you ask me what's weird is why she helped us in the first place," Bobby commented.

"I thought you saved her life?" Michelle turned to face him.

Bobby's brow furrowed in confusion, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The thing in Flagstaff," Dean replied.

"That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet. I gave her a good deal, that's all."

Dean looked at Michelle and Sam, each looking equally confused.

"Well, then why did y…" Sam began before Bobby cut him off.

"You boys better check your pockets," Bobby told them.

Michelle rolled her eyes and shook her head when Sam and Dean _actually_ reached into their pockets.

"Not _literally_," Michelle stated.

Dean eyed her a moment before realization dawned on him. He turned to the closet and made his way to the safe, the lock on the door already disengaged, "No, no, no, no!" he opened it up to reveal it empty.

"The Colt!" Sam shouted, peering in as well before Dean slammed it shut, "Bela stole the Colt."

"Wait!" Michelle said, moving over to the couch and lifting a cushion up, "Shit," they heard her say along with a ripping noise. She stood up, "I thought she might try something like that, so I moved the Colt when you went to follow her, she must have searched the room after the safe. She found it."

"Damn it!" Bobby swore.

"Pack you crap," Dean ordered, walking over to his own bag.

"Why?" Sam asked at the same time as Michelle asked, "Where are we going?"

Dean turned to them, "We're gonna go hunt the bitch down," he turned back to his bag and began stuffing things in there.

Sam and Michelle looked at each other before turning to Bobby, "Guess this is goodbye," Sam commented.

Michelle stepped forward and linked arms with Bobby, "Come on, we'll see you out."

Sam nodded and the three headed out of the motel and over to Bobby's car. He shook Sam's hand in thanks for helping save his life and gave Michelle a small hug before getting in his car and heading home.

Sam turned around and began heading back to the motel, when Michelle called out, "Sam!" he turned to face her, seeing her fidgeting nervously, something he'd never really seen her do before, "Are…are we ok?"

"What?" he looked at her, stunned. Why would she think they weren't?

"You seemed upset with me earlier. Did I do something wrong?"

Sam's eyes widened as he realized what she was talking about. He hadn't really apologized for how he treated her after his dream, too caught up in things with Bobby.

"No," he said softly, stepping towards her, "You didn't do anything."

She eyed him, "Are you sure? It didn't seem that way."

"Trust me, it wasn't _you_," he sighed, "It was more _me_ than anything."

"You?"

He nodded, swallowing nervously, "I…I was just…" he sighed again, trying to find the words.

Michelle smiled softly and stepped up to him, taking his hands in hers, "You can tell me Sam," she reassured.

"No…I can't."

Not only was it embarrassing for him to tell her he'd basically had a wet dream about her, but to add to that the fact that since then all he wanted to do was kiss her, wouldn't help. They'd_ just_ built up a friendship, he didn't want to ruin it.

Michelle laughed, "Of course you can," she looked at him, "I promise, I won't get mad."

"Oh, you might," he frowned, worried, "You…you might hate me."

"Hate you?" she raised an eyebrow, shaking her head, "There is nothing you could say or do that would make me hate you Sam. Ever."

"Really?"

She nodded, "I promise, and I'll tell you something, I always keep my promises," she looked at him expectantly, hoping her words had reassured him, but he still didn't say anything, he just stared at her, "Sam," she tried to nudge him but slowly her smile faded into a worried frown when he _still_ didn't respond, "Sam? Are you alri…"

Suddenly, Sam reached out and smashed their mouths together in a forceful, yet somehow gentle, kiss. It lasted only a few moments, as though Sam had acted without thinking and _just_ realized what he was doing. He pulled back just as quickly, "I...uh, oh my God, I..." he stuttered, stepping back, trying to think of something coherent to say.

Finding nothing, he just turned and half-ran back into the motel, leaving a slightly stunned woman standing outside. Moments later a smile spread across her face as she shook her head and walked back to the motel as well.

She entered the motel room, watching Sam packing his things and looking up at her when she walked in. He was actually blushing, quickly looking down to his bag. She didn't even mind as she walked over to her own bag and began to pack.

It was silent for a moment before Dean looked up at Sam, glancing at Michelle for a moment, and going back to his brother, "Hey, Sam?" he asked, getting his brother's attention, "I was wondering. When you were in my head, what did you see?"

Sam looked at him questioningly, "Uh, just Jeremy. He kept me separated from you. Easier to beat my brains out that way, I guess," he looked over at Michelle, "What about you? You never said."

Dean looked over at Michelle, who glanced his way for a moment, and shook her head at Sam, "Nothing. I was looking for you the whole time."

Sam nodded, about to speak, when Dean tossed Sam his bag to go put in the trunk of the car while Michelle finished packing her own. Sam sighed, rolling his eyes and walking out of the room with his and Dean's bags.

Dean leaned against the couch, watching Michelle finish zipping her bag, "How much did you hear?"

She sighed, straightening up, "From when he started talking about how your favorites were your dad's."

Dean nodded slowly, "Then you saw…"

"Saw, shot," she confirmed, "_That's_ what you're afraid of? Becoming a demon?"

Dean swallowed hard, unable to look at her.

She sighed and stepped around the couch to stand before him, "Dean, look at me," she took his hand in her own, the motion and the slight order drawing his attention, "That _will not_ happen," she said firmly, staring him right in the eyes so he could see she didn't doubt her words, "I swear to you, that _won't _happen to you. I will do _everything_ in my power to make sure it _doesn't_," she raised an eyebrow, "Ok?"

Dean stared for a moment, calmer now. For some reason, even though he knew her promise was empty and there was probably no way to prevent it, he felt…better. He almost felt like he could trust her, trust that she wouldn't let it happen. How she would be able to stop it was beyond him, but he didn't question how it made him feel.

He nodded, "Ok."

She smiled, "We better get out to Sam before he thinks you fell asleep standing up."

Dean laughed and nodded, being a gentleman for once and picking up her bag, walking towards the door. She followed him down to the car, shutting the trunk once he threw her bag into it, and held the back passenger's side door open for him. He opened his mouth to say something when she gave him a warning look. He sighed and got into the backseat so he could get some sleep on the drive.

She smirked in victory, getting into the passenger's seat while Sam slid into the driver's side. They were both in a better position to drive than Dean was, they'd taken shifts keeping awake with Dean and Bobby, so they'd both gotten at least some sleep.

They drove for a while, both Sam and Michelle trying to keep quiet as they thought Dean was sleeping when suddenly his voice called out, "Sam?"

Sam glanced behind him to check on his brother, "Yeah?"

Dean didn't look at him, but rather focused on the roof of the Impala, "I've been doing some thinking. And...well, the thing is...I don't wanna die."

Sam's expression softened, sad as it was, but Michelle just smiled to herself, this was a breakthrough. The boy who had sold his soul to a demon to bring his brother back after he'd died, the boy who hadn't given a damn about whether he died before his allotted year was up, was finally admitting the truth.

"I don't wanna go to Hell," Dean continued.

Sam nodded slowly, "Alright. Yeah."

Michelle turned slightly, resting on her side so she could observe both brothers, and reached into the backseat to rest a hand on Dean's arms, crossed over his chest, "Then we'll find a way to save you," she promised.

The boys looked at her, hearing the firmness and honesty in her voice. They smiled at her faith in themselves.

Dean nodded, closing his eyes to sleep, the feel of Michelle's hand on his arm comforting him as he slept.

A/N: Woo! We've got a Sam/Michelle kiss! Yay! Lol, that little dream Sam had was originally Bela in the episode, but I really thought it was out of place even in the show, and with Michelle there...it HAD to be her :)

As for the next episode, we've got a Trickster, a Mystery Spot, and...a surprising development for Sam and Michelle. I'm really looking forward to it, anything with the Trickster in it is a favorite of mine :) He's just awesome.


	9. Mystery Spot

Mystery Spot

Sam's eyes opened slowly as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio. He glanced down to see Michelle curled up at his side, her head resting on his shoulder with his arm around her waist. Her eyelids fluttered a bit as they always did right before she woke up. He smiled softly at her, opening his mouth to greet her, when Dean's voice cut in.

"Rise and shine!" Dean called to them. Michelle shook her head, scooting up in bed as Sam sat up as well, both looking over at Dean sitting on the neighboring bed, tying his shoe.

"Dude, _Asia_?" Sam asked his brother, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on, you love this song and you know it!"

"Yeah, and if I ever hear it again, I'm gonna kill myself," Sam mumbled as Michelle yawned next to him and stretched.

Dean reached over and cranked up the volume, earning a laugh from Michelle, "What? I'm sorry, I can't hear you," he began mouthing the words to the song while pointing at the two of them, nodding his head in time.

Sam shook his head, laughing at his brother, while Michelle let her head drop onto Sam's shoulder, shaking her head too.

Dean smirked at the two and got up off the bed to go brush his teeth.

Sam leaned his head to rest on Michelle's for a moment before he slid out of bed and went to get ready for the day. Michelle fell back into the bed, stretching once more before getting out.

Dean had just started gargling when Sam made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He reached out to grab the toothpaste container, eyeing the paste smeared all over the top of it before grimacing. Michelle appeared in the mirror next to him, holding out her own tube of toothpaste to use, end clean. Sam smiled down at her, taking the toothpaste while Dean watched the two out of the corner of his eye.

They had no idea, but he'd seen the kiss they'd snuck after they'd saved Bobby, before leaving to hunt down Bela. That's what they got for smooching in front of the motel while their room window faced it. Ever since, he'd been keeping an eye on them and he'd noticed a few things. Sam was much more comfortable waking up with Michelle in his arms than he'd been in the beginning. He was also much more drawn to Michelle, his eyes finding her whenever she was around. He also seemed a bit more relaxed, calmer, as though he felt like everything would be alright. Michelle was different as well. She smiled much more than she had and seemed almost attached to Sam's side. He definitely didn't need to worry about Sam ever being alone the way the two seemed to gravitate towards each other. Together they were almost in sync, it was a bit disturbing sometimes, especially when they'd be hunting and, without looking at each other, they would just _know_ when the other needed some more help or when to throw a punch so as to hurt the creature but not each other.

Dean glanced over at Sam, who just smiled at him while brushing his teeth.

~8~

Dean was rushing around the room in search of something while Sam and Michelle waited in the doorway for him, both looking annoyed yet still in a good mood.

"Whenever you're ready Dean," Sam smirked.

Dean rummaged around one of the bags, pulling out a black and purple lace bra. He held it up, an eyebrow raised, "This yours?" he looked at Michelle.

Michelle glared at him, "Run."

Dean's eyes widened as he dropped the bra and grabbed a handgun just off to the side, under the bed, "Bingo!" he jumped up and half-ran out the door.

Michelle looked over at Sam, her glare lightening exponentially as she laughed at Dean. She was pretty sure any other girl would be morbidly embarassed at some guy finding her bra, but there was no shame in the world of hunting. You had a job, you wore whatever you needed to get it done. You get caught unawares with your pants down, you fight in whatever you still had on. You got injured, you got treated, regardless of where the injury was or what piece of clothing had to be cut off to do so. And besides, she knew that Dean had no feelings of the romantic kind for her, so he probably felt more awkward about finding and touching her bra than she did that he had.

Sam just shook his head, shutting the door as they headed off to get breakfast.

The ride to the diner had been quiet, but nice, and not very long as the eatery was only a mile or so down the road. Sam held the door open for his brother and Michelle, the little bell dinging as the door opened. They walked past the cashier giving an old man his change, "Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett," the cashier said.

"Yeah, yeah," Mr. Pickett replied, shuffling out of the diner.

"Order up!" the cook shouted from the back as the trio made their way to a booth.

The only waitress there was talking with a homeless man sitting at the counter, "Can't stay unless you order something, Cal, you know the rules."

Cal pushed some change towards her, "Some coffee," he mumbled.

They slid into the booth, Michelle first, sitting in the back with Dean to her left and Sam to her right. Dean had a perfect view of the specials over Sam's head, "Hey, Tuesday," he smirked, "Pig in a poke."

"Do you even know what that is?" Michelle questioned, implying he did not. Dean shot her a look that also indicated he did not as the waitress walked up.

"Are y'all ready?" she asked, holding a small pad to write the order down.

"Yes, I'll have the special, side of bacon, and a coffee," Dean said, smiling at her charmingly.

"Make it two coffees and a short stack," Sam added.

"A hot tea with milk and a plain waffle," Michelle said, "Thank you."

"You got it," the woman nodded, underlining something on the pad and walking off.

"I'm telling you, this job is small fry," Dean commented, "We should be spending our time hunting down Bela."

"Ok, sure, let's get right on that, where is she again?" Michelle countered.

"Shut up," Dean rolled his eyes.

"Look, believe me, I wanna find her as bad as you do," Sam cut in, breaking up the fight he was sure was going to happen. It was never anything serious with Michelle and Dean, more like a playful sibling-like banter. Sam smiled at that thought, he could tell Dean already thought of Michelle as the little sister he never had or at least a beloved cousin, "In the meantime, we have this," he pulled out a paper from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table.

Dean snatched it up quickly as Michelle went to take it. He sent a smirk of triumph at her before looking down at it, a missing person's flyer, "Alright, so this professor..."

"Dexter Hasselback, he was passing through town last week when he vanished."

"Last known location?"

"His daughter says he was on his way to visit the Broward County Mystery Spot."

This time Michelle snatched the Mystery Spot pamphlet that Sam had put down and shot a victory glance at Dean, reading it, "'Where the laws of physics have no meaning?'" she raised an eyebrow at that.

A bell dinged and Doris, their waitress, walked over to them with a tray, "Two coffees, black. One tea with milk…" she placed the drinks on the table.

"Thanks," Michelle smiled at the woman.

"And some hot sauce for the…" Doris began before the hot sauce fell off her tray and smashed on the ground, "Oh! Whoops…craps," she looked at the trio, "Sorry," she turned and walked off towards the kitchen, "Clean up!"

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam and took a sip of his coffee. Michelle rolled her eyes at Dean and took to looking around the diner and at the customers. Her brow furrowed as she glanced at a man at the counter for a moment before looking away at the rest of the people.

~8~

The trio was walking down the street outside the diner, Michelle between the boys, a dog barking at them as they passed.

"Sam, you know joints like this are only tourist traps, right?" Dean asked him, "I mean, you know, balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling. The only danger is to your wallet."

"Ok look, I'm just saying that there _are_ spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people," Sam commented.

Michelle nodded, "Sometimes the places _are_ legit. The Bermuda Triangle, the Oregon Vortex…"

"Broward County Mystery Spot?" Dean cut in before sighing, "Alright, so _if_ it _is _legit, and that's a big as 'if,' what's the lore?"

"Well, the…" Sam began before a girl ran into Dean's shoulder as she passed them, holding a stack of papers.

"Excuse me," she called, continuing on her way, Dean glancing at her backside in the process.

"The lore's pretty freakin' nuts actually," Sam continued, "They say in these places the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend space-time, sending victims no one knows where."

"Sounds a little 'X Files' to me," Dean commented.

They scooted to the side, around two men trying to move a desk into a building, having difficulty with the large desk and average size door.

"I told you it wouldn't fit!" the first man shouted.

"What do you want a Pulitzer?" his friend glared.

"Alright look, I'm not saying I agree this place is real," Michelle looked over at Dean, "But if it is, we need to check it out, see if we can do something."

Dean looked down at her and sighed, shaking his head, somehow he'd managed to develop a soft spot for her and he _really_ needed to learn how to say no to her, "Alright, alright, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look," he walked ahead, leaving Sam and Michelle to follow behind.

Sam glanced at Michelle, a smirk on his face, as she looked at him with the same look. He was grateful he'd noticed his brother's disadvantage when it came to Michelle, this was one way he could get Dean to do something without having to threaten the Impala.

~8~

That night they snuck over to the Mystery Spot. Sam was holding the EMF while Dean had his handgun ready, Michelle was manning the flashlight this time, though she was not without a weapon hidden somewhere on her person. Getting in was easy, there didn't seem to be anyone there as they walked down the hallway. They entered a room at the end, Michelle shining a light onto the ceiling to see a table with an ashtray and lamp on it nailed there.

"Wow, uncanny," Dean commented, staring up at it as Sam proceeded to scan around the room, "Find anything?"

"No," Sam shook his head.

"Do you have any idea what you're looking for?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam replied, Michelle snorted at this, which earned Sam a look from Dean. Sam sighed, "No."

Dean shook his head as they continued to look around. Suddenly they heard a gun cock and a voice yell, "What the hell are you doing here?"

The trio spun around to see a man with a shotgun aimed at them. Dean pointed his gun, glancing at Michelle who shook her head, not a demon, and lowered it. It had to be a civilian. He looked at his brother and Michelle, standing there with their hands up, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. We can explain."

"You robbing me?" the man demanded.

"Look, nobody's robbing you, calm down," Sam tried as Dean moved to put his gun away.

"Don't move, don't move!"

"I'm just putting the gun down," Dean explained.

Suddenly the man fired, hitting Dean in the chest, throwing him back onto the floor.

"Dean!" Sam and Michelle shouted, rushing to his side.

"Hey, hey," Sam tried, holding his brother, tears in his eyes.

Michelle put pressure on the wound and looked up at the man, "Call 911!"

"I...I didn't mean to..." he dropped the gun.

"Now!" Michelle barked the order, looking back down at Dean.

"Hey, hey," Sam continued, trying to keep his brother focused, "No, no, no," he didn't look good as he struggled to breathe, "Not like this," Sam murmured.

Michelle could only watch as Dean closed his eyes and stopped moving.

Sam's eyes widened as he began shaking his brother, "Dean!"

Michelle felt tears falling at the sight and reached out, laying a hand on Sam's shoulder as he pressed his face into his brother's chest, "Sam…"

~8~

Sam's eyes flew open as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio. He looked over to see Michelle resting next to him, her brow furrowed as she too opened her eyes and looked up at him in confusion.

"Rise and shine!" a voice shouted next to them.

They looked over to see Dean sitting on the neighboring bed, tying his shoe.

Sam's eyes opened wide as he looked at his brother, now very freaked out. A hand rested on his arm, he looked over at Michelle to see her looking at Dean with wide eyes as well.

Dean smirked at them, "Dude, Asia."

"Dean?" Sam whispered.

"Oh, come on, you love this song and you know it!" he reached out and turned the volume up, mouthing the chorus as he pointed at them, bobbing his head. He got off the bed and went to the bathroom.

Sam looked over at Michelle for a moment, confused, before shaking his head and getting up, walking after his brother. He entered the bathroom just as Den began gargling. Sam looked from Dean to the tube of toothpaste, still coated with paste. He looked back up at Dean strangely till the latter spat out his mouthwash.

"What?"

"I don't know," Sam commented slowly.

"You alright?"

Sam shook his head slowly, "No. I think I...man I had a weird dream."

"Yeah?" Dean smirked, "Clowns or midgets?"

Sam said nothing so Dean shrugged and walked away. Sam looked back down at the toothpaste, when another was thrust in front of his face, "I don't think it was a dream," Michelle said as he took the tube from her.

"You had the same one?" Sam turned to her, "With…Dean dying?"

She nodded, "That's why I don't think it was a dream."

~8~

They walked into the diner, the bell dinging as the door was opened. Like before, there was Mr. Pickett being given change by the cashier, "Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett."

"Yeah, yeah," the man grumbled.

"Order up!" the cook shouted.

Sam ducked his head and quickly made his way towards the booth they were in before, allowing Michelle to slide in as the waitress finished taking her order of coffee from Cal, the homeless man.

"Hey, Tuesday," Dean commented, reading the specials, "Pig in a poke."

"It's Tuesday?" Sam asked, glancing back.

"Yeah," Dean nodded as Doris came up to them.

"Are y'all ready?" she asked, holding up a pad of paper.

"Yes, I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee," Dean said.

"Uh, nothing for me, thanks," Sam waved her off as Michelle nodded.

"Let me know if you change your mind," she commented, walking away to place the order.

"I'm telling you, this job is small fry," Dean looked at them, "We should be spending our time hunting down Bela," Sam looked around distractedly as Michelle frowned, staring off into space, "Hey!" he snapped his fingers, trying to get their attention, "You with me?"

"What?" Sam looked over at him.

"You sure you feel ok?"

You don't…remember any of this?" Michelle cut in.

Dean turned to her, "Remember what?"

"This," Sam answered, "Today, like...like...like it's...happened before?"

"You mean like déjà vu?"

"No, I mean, like it's...like it's _really_ happened before."

"Yeah. Like déjà vu."

Michelle rolled her eyes, "No, forget about déjà vu. Does it feel like we're living yesterday all over again?"

Dean frowned, confused, "Ok, how is that not déjà…"

"Don't!" Sam shouted, growing frustrated, "Don't say it, just don't."

Doris came over with her tray, "Coffee, black," she placed it on the table in front of Dean, "And some hot sauce for the…" the hot sauce fell off the tray but Sam lurched forward and caught it just before it could smash on the floor, "Oops! Craps," she turned to see Sam had caught it and gasped at him, "Thanks!"

Dean raised an eyebrow at him as she walked away, "Nice reflexes."

Sam let out a breath, looking at Michelle, upset and confused. She could only frown and shake her head, she didn't know what was going on either.

~8~

The trio walked down the street from the diner, Michelle between the boys, as a dog barked, chained up to a bike rack. Sam glanced at it as they passed.

"I'm sorry you guys, but I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Dean shook his head at them.

"Ok look, yesterday was Tuesday, right?" Sam tried to explain once again, "But _today_ is Tuesday too."

Dean smirked, "Yeah, no, good, you're totally balanced."

"You don't believe us?" Michelle glared at him as he laughed at them.

A girl ran into Dean's shoulder as she passed them, holding a stack of papers, "Excuse me," she called as she continued on.

"Look, I'm just saying that it's crazy, you know?" Dean explained as Michelle glanced back at the woman, "Even for us crazy. Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy. Hey, maybe it was another one of your psychic premonitions," he looked at Sam.

"No, no way, way too vivid," Sam shook his head.

"And how would you explain me having the same dream?" Michelle argued as well.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged, "We have any Dream Root left over?"

"Dean!" Michelle nearly shouted.

"Ok, look, we were at the Mystery Spot, and then…" Sam began.

"And then what?" Dean looked at him.

Sam cleared his throat, opening his mouth to say something, when Michelle cut in, "Then we woke up."

Sam looked at her gratefully, even now he didn't want to think about Dean dying. They stepped around the movers from yesterday, still arguing, "I told you it wouldn't fit!" the first man shouted.

"What do you want a Pulitzer?" his friend shot back.

"Wait a minute!" Sam shouted, "The Mystery Spot, you think maybe it…"

"Maybe what?" Dean looked at his brother.

Michelle nodded, catching on to his train of thought, "We gotta check it out again."

Dean looked between the two, not having a clue what they were talking about.

"Look, just go with us on this ok?" Sam turned to his brother.

Dean sighed, "Alright alright, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look..."

"Wait!" Michelle stopped, remembering last night, "No."

"Why not?"

"Uh...let's just go now," Sam agreed, "Right now. Business hours, nice and crowded."

"My God, you're a freak."

"Dean…"

Dean held up a hand, "Ok, whatever, we'll go now."

Sam sighed in relief that Dean agreed and smiled at Michelle. They both turned and began walking after Dean, who had just stepped into the street…

When a car flew out of nowhere and hit him.

Sam pulled Michelle back towards him, ducking as the driver squealed to a stop.

"Dean!" they shouted, running over to his side. He was a mess, lying bloody on the street.

"Dean," Michelle said softly, trying to gently turn him on his back.

"No, no, no, no," Sam muttered to himself, "Come on Dean."

Michelle glanced up to see Mr. Pickett leaning out of the car's window before looking back down.

Dean wasn't moving.

"Hey, Dean," Sam tried, shaking him, tears falling as yesterday repeated itself, "Dean. Dean!"

~8~

Sam's eyes flew open as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played on the radio. He felt a weight on his chest lighten as Michelle sat up, her mouth and eyes open in shock. She looked down at him as he slowly sat up to see Dean sitting on the neighboring bed, tying his shoe.

"Rise and shine!" he shouted at them.

Sam looked freaked and more than a little scared at what was happening. His only comfort was that Michelle looked equally as startled if the grip on his arm was anything to go by. His eyes followed his brother to the bathroom, watching as he brushed his teeth and began gargling.

~8~

In the diner, Michelle, Dean, and Sam were sitting in the booth, Dean looking up at the specials while Michelle looked at the customers, Sam fidgeting, on edge.

"Hey, Tuesday," Dean smiled, "Pig in a poke."

"Would you _listen_ to me, Dean?" Sam nearly shouted, "Because I am _freaking_ out."

Michelle reached over and took his hand in hers under the table, squeezing as she tried to calm him down.

Doris walked up to the table, smiling, a pad of paper in her hand, "Are y'all ready?"

"He'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee black. and nothing for us, thanks," Sam ordered.

"You got it," Doris smiled, walking away to place the order.

Dean smirked, "Sammy I get all tingly when you take control like that."

Sam looked at him, growing more distressed.

"Quit screwing around Dean," Michelle said seriously.

Dean's face grew more serious, Michelle, when not PMSing, was rarely in that sort of mood unless something was _very_ wrong, "Ok, ok, I'm listening. So, so-and you think that you're in some kind of what is it?"

"Time loop," Sam answered, squeezing Michelle's hand.

"Like 'Groundhog Day?'" Dean's brow furrowed.

"Yes, exactly, like 'Groundhog Day.'"

"Uh huh," Dean nodded, smiling more.

Michelle sat back in her seat, letting out a frustrated breath, "You don't believe us."

Dean laughed, "It's just a little crazy I mean, even for us crazy. You know, like uh…"

"Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy?" Sam supplied.

Dean eyed him, "How'd you know I was gonna say that?"

"Because you said it before," Michelle told him, "That's our whole point."

A bell dinged as Doris walked back over, "Coffee, black," she repeated, placing the drink before Dean, "And some hot sauce for the…" the hot sauce fell off the tray but, like last time, Sam was able to catch it before it broke, "Oops! Craps!" Doris turned to see Sam caught it and gasped, "Thanks!"

Dean raised his eyebrows as she walked away, "Nice reflexes."

"No," Michelle shook her head, "We knew it was gonna happen."

"Ok, look," Dean sighed, "I'm sure that there's some sort of an explanation…"

"You're just gonna have to go with us on this alright Dean?" Sam nearly shouted, getting worked up, "You just have to, you owe me that much!"

"Calm down…"

"Don't _tell_ me to calm down!" this time Sam did shout, "I _can't_ calm down. I can't because…"

Michelle reached out and pulled Sam to her side in a comforting hug. Dean watched in amazement as his brother visibly relaxed in her arms, reaching up to hug her back, burying his face in her hair and inhaling deeply.

Dean waited a moment, making sure his brother was calmer, before speaking again, "Because what?"

Michelle frowned and pulled away from Sam, "Because you die today, Dean," she said, moving to take Sam's hand in her own once more, providing him with some form of physical contact and reassurance.

Dean looked at her, doubtful, "I'm not gonna die. Not today."

"Twice now, we've watched you die," Sam muttered mournfully, "And I can't, I _won't_, do it again ok? You're just gonna have to believe me. Please."

Seeing how serious Sam was about all this and how grim Michelle looked, he nodded, "Alright, I still think you're nuts, but ok, whatever this is, we'll figure it out."

~8~

The trio walked down the street from the diner, Michelle in between the boys, Sam's arm draped over her shoulders as a dog barked when they passed. After speaking with Dean in the diner, Sam hadn't seemed willing to release her hand, seeming to need some sort of physical contact to keep him in check and calm.

Not that she had any complaints.

The same girl from before ran into Dean's shoulder as she passed, holding a stack of papers, "Excuse me," she called, continuing on.

They walked past the same two movers, still arguing over the desk, "I told you it wouldn't fit!" the first man shouted.

"What do you want a Pulitzer?" his friend snapped.

"You think this cheesy ass tourist trap has something to do with it?" Dean asked them as they walked.

"Maybe it's the real deal, you know," Michelle commented, "The magnetic fields bending space-time, or whatever."

"I don't know, it all seems a little too 'X Files' for me."

Sam sighed, "Well, we don't know how else to explain it Dean."

"Alright, alright, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look."

Sam stopped, forcing Michelle and Dean to stop as well, "No, no, no, no. We can't."

"Why not?" Dean looked at them.

"Because you…" Michelle started, before stopping, glancing at Sam as he tensed. All this was _really _having an effect on him.

"I what?" Dean asked, an eyebrow quirked. Sam looked away as Michelle shook her head at Dean, "I die there?" he guessed.

"Blown away actually," Sam said nervously.

Dean looked thoughtful for a moment, "Huh. Ok, let's go now," he started to walk onto the street, when he was suddenly pulled back by Sam and Michelle just as a car sped by him.

"Get out of the way!" Mr. Pickett shouted at them.

Dean laughed at this and looked back at Sam and Michelle, both of whom were not at all amused, "What?" he asked, before realizing something, "Did he…"

"Yesterday," Michelle nodded, "Yeah."

"And?" Dean looked at them expectantly.

"And what?"

"Did it look cool, like in the movies?" he smiled.

Sam looked at Michelle before glaring at his brother, "You peed yourself."

Dean looked put off at that, "Of course I peed myself. A man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!" he turned around and stalked off back to the street, this time though he looked both ways and nodded his head before crossing, Michelle and Sam close behind, both eying everything they came across suspiciously.

Eventually, somehow, they made it all the way to the Mystery Spot and were now standing in front of the ownder, Mr. Carpiak, the man they recognized as the one who shot Dean.

"I can't tell you how much I appreciate this," Mr. Carpiak gushed, "We could use all the good ink we can get."

"How long have you owned the place Mr. Carpiak?" Michelle began, her hand taking Sam's as he tensed at her side, seeing the man who killed his brother.

"Well, my family's been guarding the secrets here since you don't wanna know when."

"So you'd know if anything strange happened?" Sam eyed him.

"Strange?" he smirked, "Strange happens here all the time. It's a mystery spot," he laughed, trying way too hard to sell the whole 'mystery spot' pitch at them.

"What exactly does that mean?" Michelle reached.

"Well, uh...it's where the laws of physics have no meaning."

"Ok, like how?" Sam added.

"Take the tour."

"The guy who went missing, Dexter Hasselback, he take the tour?" Dean asked, noticing that both Michelle and Sam were getting frustrated.

"Uh hold on a minute, what kind of article is this?" the man eyed them.

"Just answer the question," Michelle said, rubbing her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

He sighed, "The police scoured every inch of this place, they couldn't find that man. I never seen him before. We're a family establishment."

"Listen to me, there's something weird going on here," Sam leaned forward, itching to reach out and pull the man towards him by the shirt, "Now, do you know anything about it or not?"

"Ok, look. Guys, um, give me a break. I bought the joint at a foreclosure auction last March, alright? Hell, I used to sell bail bonds."

Sam glared at him, something Dean noticed, "Ok, Kojak, let's get some air," he reached out and strung his arm over his brother's shoulders, leading him outside, Michelle getting pulled along as Sam still had yet to release her hand.

~8~

The trio was walking along the sidewalk that night, Sam glancing around nervously while Michelle just kept her eyes open.

"Well, I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought," Dean remarked, "It's full of crap."

"So what is it then Dean?" Sam turned on his brother, "What the hell is happening to us?"

"I don't know," he shook his head, "Alright, let me just...so, every day I die?"

"Yeah," Michelle nodded, seeing Sam's jaw tense at the reminder.

"That's when you wake up again, right?"

"Yeah."

"So, let's just make sure I don't die," he said, as though it were obvious, "If I make it to tomorrow, maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out."

"Do you think?" Sam looked over at Michelle.

She shrugged, "It's worth a shot."

Dean grinned, "I say we grab some takeout, head back to the motel, lay low until midnight."

Sam nodded his head in agreement, feeling a bit better at this. Not much could go wrong in the motel.

"Alright, good," he turned and started down the street, "Who wants Chinese?"

Before Sam or Michelle could answer, a desk fell on him, crushing him instantly.

Blood splattered everywhere, even on Sam and Michelle, who stood there, stunned and horrified. The two movers from that morning were standing before them, one in a window a story up and the other holding a rope, the edge by the window frayed and broken. Clearly they had been hoisting the desk up when the rope broke.

~8~

Sam's eyes flew open as he and Michelle quickly sat up on the bed, 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played on the radio. Sam was nearly hyperventilating when he looked over to see Dean sitting on the neighboring bed, tying his shoes.

"Rise and shine!" he shouted.

Sam just shook his head and slowly laid back on the bed, half-pulling Michelle down with him, and rolling over, curling into a ball at her side.

~8~

The trio was sitting in the booth at the diner, like all the other mornings, Michelle hunched forward, rubbing her temples, while Sam just looked tired and worn.

"I still think you're nuts, but, you know, whatever this is, we'll figure it out," Dean commented, eyeing them, concerned.

"Thanks," Sam replied, monotoned.

"So, if you're stuck in 'Groundhog Day,' why? What's behind it?"

"At first we thought it was the Mystery Spot, now…" Michelle trailed, shaking her head, "We're not so sure."

"What do we do?"

"Well, we keep you breathing, try to make it to tomorrow," Michelle answered, sitting back to look at him, "That's the only thing I can think of."

"Shouldn't be too hard."

Sam scoffed, "You'd think right? But no, Dean I've watched you die a few times now, and I can't ever seem to stop it."

"Well, nothing's set in stone," he replied hopefully. Sam just rolled his eyes as Dean continued, "You say I order the same thing every day right?"

"Yeah, pig in a poke, side of bacon."

"Excuse me, sweetheart," Dean called Doris over to them, "Can I get sausage instead of bacon?"

"Sure thing hon," she smiled and walked off.

"See?" he turned back to them, "Different day already," Sam nodded hesitantly while Michelle tried to look hopeful but didn't really pull it off, "'Cause see, if you and I decide that I am not gonna die...I'm not gonna die," Doris brought over his food and set it down, going off to check on Cal.

Dean smiled and picked up his fork, stabbing the sausage and taking a bite, smirking triumphantly at them. Sam couldn't help but laugh at that as Michelle smiled.

A second later though, Dean began to choke on the sausage.

"Dean?" Michelle asked, leaning forward.

"Dean!" Sam shouted when his brother started to struggle to breathe.

~8~

Sam and Michelle shot up in bed as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio. In a moment they were out of bed, ignoring Dean sitting on the neighboring bed, tying his shoe.

~8~

Dean was in the shower that same day while Michelle and Sam occasionally glanced outside.

"You mean we can't even go out for breakfast?" Dean shouted out to them.

"You'll thank us when it's Wednesday," Sam called back, walking next to Michelle and looking out the window.

"Whatever _that_ means…"

Dean suddenly screamed and there was a crash as he slipped in the shower.

Sam had only a moment to look over his shoulder before…

~8~

Sam and Michelle shot up in bed as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio.

~8~

They managed to convince Dean that it was safer to stay in the room and _not do anything_, forgo the shower especially, for a day. Either Sam or Michelle was constantly posted at the door or window, keeping watch for whatever was making Dean die repeatedly.

Michelle returned around midday with some food for them all, not willing to risk taking Dean out to eat. Per Dean's request, she'd gone to Taco Bell for tacos.

They were just sitting down to eat when Dean took a bite, chewing slowly before looking up at them, "Do these taco's taste funny to you?"

~8~

Sam and Michelle shot up in bed as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio.

~8~

That day, Dean was electrocuted plugging in his razor into the electrical socket.

~8~

Sam and Michelle shot up in bed as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio.

~8~

This time, Dean was accidently beheaded by Sam when he tried to tear down the Mystery Spot with an axe looking for the source of Dean's death.

~8~

Sam and Michelle shot up in bed as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio, only to fall back down when they realized it was, once again, Tuesday.

~8~

They went though their morning routine, just barely working up the enthusiasm to complete the task before heading off to the diner with Dean.

They walked in just as the cashier handed Mr. Pickett his change, "Drive safely now, Mr. Pickett."

"Yeah, yeah," the man grumbled.

"Order up!" the cook shouted as the trio walked towards a booth, passing Doris the waitress, standing before a homeless Cal.

"Can't stay unless you order something, Cal, you know the rules," she said.

Cal pushed some change towards her, "Some coffee."

They sat down in the same booth as always.

"Hey, Tuesday," Dean smirked, reading the specials, "Pig in a poke."

Sam looked disinterested, as though it were a joke he'd heard million times. Michelle just pulled out a set of keys and put it on the table.

"What are those?" Dean asked, looking at them.

"The old man's," Michelle answered.

Dean looked out the window at the old man, "Trust me," Sam's voice cut in, "You don't want him behind the wheel."

"Are y'all ready?" Doris asked, walking up to them, a pad in her hand.

"Yes, we are, uh, I'll have the special, side of bacon, and a coffee," Dean ordered, turning to Sam.

Sam just rolled his eyes up at Doris, "Hey, Doris. What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot."

Doris's eyes widened, "How do you know that?"

"Lucky guess," Michelle smirked as the woman walked off.

"Ok, so you think you're caught in some kind of what again?" Dean turned back to them.

"Time loop," Michelle sighed.

"Like 'Groundhog Day?'"

"It doesn't matter, there's no way to stop it," Sam muttered.

"Jeez, aren't you grumpy?" Dean eyed his brother, turning to Michelle for backup, only to see her sitting with the same look.

"Yeah, I am, we both are, and you wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because this is the _hundredth_ Tuesday_ in a row_ we've been through, and it _never_ stops," he stated, "_Ever_. So yeah, I'm a little grumpy."

Dean looked confused for a moment.

"Hot sauce," Michelle said out of nowhere.

Dean lifted an eyebrow in question, "What?"

A bell dinged and Doris came over with her tray, "Coffee, black," she placed it before Dean, "And some hot sauce for the…" the hot sauce fell from the tray but Sam reached out and grabbed it, not even looking as it fell. Doris wasn't even able to react completely before she realized he'd grabbed it, "Oh! Whoops…craps. Thanks..."

"Nice reflexes," Dean commented as Doris walked off.

"I knew it was gonna happen Dean," Sam replied.

"We know everything that's gonna happen," Michelle added.

He looked between the two, "You don't know everything."

"Yeah, we do," Sam argued.

"Yeah, right," Dean said as Sam mimicked him in perfect time, "Nice guess."

"It wasn't a guess," Sam added as Michelle sat back, knowing what was coming.

"Right, you're a mind reader," Dean replied, at the same time as Sam. He leaned forward, half-glaring at his brother when they continued to speak at once, "Cut it out Sam…Sam! You think you're being funny but you're being really, really childish. Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up he…ok, enough!"

Michelle just laughed at that.

Sam looked over at her, a small smile on his face, "How can you _still_ laugh at that? This was like the 35th time it's happened."

She shrugged, "35th or 335th, you two talking at once will never get old."

"35 times?" Dean asked, staring at them.

"That's not all," Michelle commented, nodding towards the front of the diner, "Randy, the cashier? He's skimming from the register."

"Judge Meyers?" Sam continued, "At night he puts on a furry bunny outfit."

A man a few tables away dropped his drink hearing that, Dean could only guess that was the judge in question.

"Over there, that's Cal," Michelle added, "He's gonna rob Tony the Mechanic on the way home."

"What's your point?" Dean cut in, getting seriously freaked out.

"The point is, we've lived through _every possible_ Tuesday," Sam finished, "We've watched you die _every possible way_. We have ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried _everything_ we know to save your life, and we can't. No matter what we do, you die. And then we wake up, and then it's Tuesday _again_."

~8~

"The dog," Sam commented offhandedly as they walked down the street from the diner, the dog barking as they passed.

"There's gotta be some way outta this," Dean shook his head.

"Where's my dang keys?" Michelle grumbled.

They walked past Mr. Pickett, who was searching his pockets for his keys, "Where's my dang keys?" he asked himself.

"Excuse me," Sam added, just as the girl from before ran into Dean's shoulder as she passed, holding a stack of papers.

"Excuse me," she called, walking on.

"She's kinda cute," Dean said at the same time as Michelle, who was obviously quoting him.

He stopped them, "Hey, all the times we've walked down this street, did I ever do this?" he turned around and ran after the woman who bumped into him, "Excuse me, miss?"

"No…" Sam said slowly, looking at Michelle for confirmation.

Dean took one of her papers and walked back over, "Hundred Tuesdays, you never bothered to check what she was holding in her hands?" he asked them, they just shrugged, the thought hadn't ever crossed their mind. He held up a paper, "This the guy who went missing?"

They looked down at the picture, Dexter Hasselback, "Yeah," Michelle nodded.

"That's his daughter back there."

Sam grabbed the flyer and ran after the woman like his brother had, "Ma'am? Uh, miss?"

The dog growled and barked as Dean looked at it, "Hey, buddy. Somebody need a friend?"

"Dean don't!" Michelle shouted but he'd already walked over.

There was a growl and Dean yelled before…

~8~

Sam and Michelle shot up in bed as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio.

~8~

Sam was sitting at the diner booth, on his laptop, while Michelle sat next to him, reading a book, and Dean sat eating.

"So, the police say Dexter Hasselback is a professor, but that's not all he is," Sam commented.

"What is he?" Dean looked up.

"I talked to his daughter, the guy's quite the journalist. Column's in magazines, a blog."

Michelle glanced up as the customer at the counter she'd noticed on the very first Tuesday, Ed, got up and left.

"He writes about tourist attractions, mystery spots, UFO crash sites," Sam continued, "Gets his kicks debunking them. I mean, he's already put four of these places out of business. Here…" he turned his computer around for Dean to see.

"'Dexter Hasselback: Truth Warrior?'" Dean read out loud, "More like a pompous schmuck if you ask me."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written. He must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself."

"When did you have time to do all this research?"

"Come on," Sam said, not answering the question but getting up. Dean laughed, "What?"

"It's...it's just...it's funny you know?" Dean grinned, "I mean, this guy spends his whole life crapping on Mystery Spots and then he vanishes in one. It's kinda poetic you know? Like uh...just desserts."

"You're right," Sam nodded, "It _is_ just desserts."

"Guys," Michelle called, her eyes on the counter. They looked at her before following her gaze, only to see Ed's plate with strawberry syrup on it.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked as she practically pushed him out of the booth to get closer to the plate. He looked at Sam, who looked equally confused.

"That guy," she said, nodding at Ed leaving outside, "Has had maple syrup for the past hundred Tuesdays, all of a sudden he's having _strawberry_?"

Dean shrugged, "It's a free country. Man can't choose his own syrup huh? What have we become?"

"Not in this diner," Sam said, his eyes widening as he realized what Michelle had just said, "Not today. Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. Except Michelle and me…"

~8~

Sam and Michelle shot up in bed as 'Heat of the Moment' by Asia played over the radio. But this time they had a plan in mind.

~8~

Sam and Michelle were intently watching Ed eat his pancakes, drenched in maple syrup, as Dean tried to eat his breakfast.

"So you think you're caught in some kind of what again?" Dean asked.

"Eat your breakfast," they both ordered.

Dean held up his hands in surrender as Ed stood up and left. Sam glanced at Michelle, who nodded, and got up, allowing her to slide out with a bag in her hands before following after.

"What's in the bag?" Dean called after them. He watched them leave for a moment before stuffing a large slice of his food into his mouth, getting up and leaving money as he followed them.

He managed to catch up as they followed Ed walking down the street and around the corner. They ran up to him, Sam reaching out to grab him and slam him up against a gate.

"Hey!" Ed shouted, "Hey!"

Sam looked at Michelle who opened the bag and handed him a blood covered stake. He pressed it against Ed's neck as Dean completely caught up to them.

"We know who you are, or should I say what," Sam said menacingly.

"Oh, God, please don't kill me," Ed begged.

"Sam?" Dean looked at his brother.

"It took us a hell of a long time, but I got it," Sam continued.

"What?" Ed asked.

"It's your M.O. that gave you away, going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts. Your kind loves that don't they?"

"Yeah, sure, ok," Ed eyed the stake, "Just put the stake down."

"Sam, maybe you should…" Dean started.

"No!" Sam shouted, "There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops! In fact you'd pretty much have to be a god. Or you'd have to be a Trickster."

"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name's Amelia, I got two kids," he stressed, "For crying out loud I sell ad space."

"Don't lie to me!" Sam pressed the stake harder against the man's throat, "I know what you are, we've killed one of your kind before!"

Ed smirked, suddenly turning in to the Trickster the Winchesters knew and loved, shocking both Sam and Dean.

"I don't think you did," Michelle said quietly, eyeing the man.

Dean had to agree, if they _had_ killed him before, he couldn't be there now.

"Actually bucko, you didn't," the Trickster agreed.

"Why are you doing this?" Michelle asked.

The Trickster looked at her, eyeing her a moment, his eyes widening, "You're joking right? These chuckleheads tried to _kill_ me last time. Why _wouldn't_ I do this?"

"And Hasselback, what about him?" Dean cut in.

"That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one. Ha ha ha! Huh? Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town."

"So this is _fun_ for you?" Sam asked, his anger growing, "Killing Dean over and over again?"

"One: yes, it is fun. And two: this is _so_ not about killing Dean. This joke is on _you_, Sam. Watching your brother die every day. Forever."

"You son of a bitch," Sam moved to push the stake into the Trickster's throat, but Michelle placed a hand on his shoulder, calming him enough to stop.

The Trickster eyed the interaction for a moment before looking at Sam, "How long will it take you to realize, you can't save your brother no matter what?"

"Oh, yeah?" Sam threatened, "I kill you, this all ends now," he pushed the stake closer.

"Sam!" Michelle called out.

"Uh oh, hey...whoa," the Trickster spoke, "Ok, ok, look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke? Fine, you're out of it. Tomorrow, you wake up, it'll be Wednesday, I swear."

Sam glared, "You're lying."

"If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner."

Sam seemed to consider it for a moment before shaking his head, "No, easier to just kill you."

"Sorry, kiddo, can't have that," the Trickster snapped his fingers.

~8~

Sam and Michelle slowly awoke to the tune of 'Back in Time' by Huey Lewis and the News playing on the radio. They sat up just as slowly to see Dean leaning out of the bathroom.

"Were you two gonna sleep all day?" he asked them.

"No Asia," Michelle commented.

"Yeah, I know, this station sucks."

Sam looked over at the clock radio to see the date was set for WED. He gasped, "It's Wednesday!" he looked over at Michelle and pulled her into a celebratory kiss.

"Yeah, which usually comes after Tuesday," Dean said, smirking at the PDA, "Turn that thing off would you?"

Sam broke away and turned to face his brother, so excited about the fact it _wasn't_ Tuesday that he didn't even mind he'd just outed his attraction to Michelle to his brother.

"What are you kidding?" he shouted, "This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?"

Michelle just laughed at his enthusiasm.

"No," Dean eyed them, "Jeez, how many Tuesdays did you have?"

Sam jumped out of the bed and quickly began getting dressed, "I don't know, I lost count."

Michelle shook her head and reached over to turn the radio off, glancing at Dean a moment later, "Hey, what do you remember?"

Dean shrugged, "I remember you both were pretty wacked out of it yesterday, and then I remember running into the Trickster. But, no, that's about it."

"Alright, pack your stuff let's get the hell out of town, now," Sam mock ordered.

"No breakfast?"

Michelle grimaced, "No breakfast."

Dean didn't bother to argue, figuring they both had enough the last couple hundred Tuesdays. He quickly got his bag ready and waited for the other two to get ready as well. Though, it seemed they were more interested in reminiscing the more insane ways he had kicked the bucket than getting ready. He shook his head at them, talking about some sort of mental breakdown of Michelle's around the 81st time where she smashed the radio to pieces, and went to go put his bag in the trunk, at least _he_ would be ready to leave.

"I can't believe it's over," Sam sighed, flopping onto the bed.

"I know," Michelle agreed, zipping her bag, "I never thought Wednesday would be my favorite day of the week."

He rolled over to see his bag on the floor and got off the bed. The sooner they could get out, the better. He shoved the last few items he had into the bag, when suddenly a gunshot rang out.

Sam stopped and looked up, seeing Michelle frozen as well. They looked towards the door, recalling Dean was going to pack up the Impala.

"Dean!" Sam shouted and ran out, followed by Michelle.

They ran towards the parking lot to see Cal rushing off and Dean lying on the ground, bleeding from the wound in his chest, not moving. Sam skid over to his brother's side, Michelle kneeling on his other side.

"No, no, no, no," Michelle murmured, applying pressure.

"Hey, hey," Sam mumbled, "Come on. Not today, not today, this isn't supposed to happen today. Come on," he shut his eyes, trying in vain to wake himself up, to see Dean sitting on the bed. Hell, he'd even put up with _Asia_ if that would happen.

But when he opened his eyes, nothing was different. He was still sitting in the parking lot with Dean lying there and Michelle crying across from him.

"I'm supposed to wake up," he whispered quietly, tears falling from his eyes as he hugged Dean tight to him.

A moment later he felt Michelle kneel beside him and envelope him in her arms.

~8~

Six months later...

Sam was driving the Impala down the road while Michelle held a phone to her ear, working on the laptop as she did so. A moment later she shut the phone and turned to Sam, "Bobby says he heard about that demon that we took care of in Death Valley. He wanted me to tell you we did a nice job," she reached out and rested a hand on his. He turned to smile at her, twisting his hand to take hold of hers, "He says it's been about three months since you actually _talked_ to him, he really just wants to hear your voice and to give him a call whenever."

Sam nodded, lifting the back of her hand to his lips and planting a kiss on it. She smiled softly at him and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

When Dean had died, Sam had been distraught. He'd shut out everyone, Bobby and even her. He'd tried to push her away but if there was one thing she was, it was _stubborn_. She'd stayed by his side for two months as he went on hunt after hunt after hunt. He'd been so different those first two months, barely speaking, hardly eating, not even acknowledging her presence as she treated his wounds.

It wasn't until one particularly nasty hunt when he'd almost been offed by some random creature that things changed for the better. She'd pushed him out of the way, getting the crap beat out of her as a result. Sam managed to kill the creature and carried her back to the motel room. He'd been at her side through the whole thing, cleaning her wounds, getting food, and just watching over her. She'd woken briefly to see him crying at her bedside and asking her to forgive him.

She'd woken up entirely after that, pushing herself to sit up even when he ordered her to sit still. She stood up and smacked him across the face for how he'd been treating her before reaching out and pulling him into her arms, hugging him as he broke down crying, apologizing for how he'd been treating her. He hadn't meant for her to get hurt, he'd mumbled through the tears, he _never_ wanted her to get hurt.

She'd been brutally honest, telling him that he'd hurt her by ignoring her, by trying to get himself killed on hunts with no thought to how it would impact others, like her and Bobby. She'd told him about the dark path he'd started down. How he'd begun to torture the demons he came across, trying to get information about the Trickster, how he'd started treating average people, how he'd treated her.

He's snapped out of it after that, though he still refused to contact Bobby. He'd had a harsh falling out with the man, said things in grief he never wanted to say and was too embarrassed and ashamed to call back and apologize. So Michelle was the go-between for the two of them.

Sam looked out the window, seeing a sign for a street they were looking for. He pulled down it until they came to an empty parking lot and pulled in. He shut the car off and turned to Michelle, "You ready?"

She took a breath and nodded, getting out of the car and walking to the trunk. She popped it open and pulled out a shotgun, as did Sam. It was much neater than when Dean had it, she had to admit. Everything had a place.

She turned to the woods, about to walk towards them, when Sam caught her arm and pulled her back, into a kiss. He smiled gently at her as they broke apart and went off to hunt.

~8~

Sam entered the motel room one night, leaning heavily on Michelle, grunting and wincing at the pain. She helped him sit and took off his jacket, revealing a wound on his side. She lifted his shirt, allowing him to hold it as she went to her bag and pulled out her first aid supplies. She walked back over, grimacing at the bullet wound in his left abdomen. She gently applied antiseptic on it and began to work on pulling the bullet out using some small tongs. Once it was out, she got up and got him a beer to dull the pain as she got to work stitching it up. She tried to be gentle but she could see him wince out of the corner of her eye, though every time she looked up he was smiling at her.

She ran out and got them some food to eat as he rested on the bed, the blood loss making him a bit dizzy. But once he got food in him he felt much better. They ate silently, just enjoying each other's company before turning to work on their next lead at finding the Trickster.

Sam sat on the bed, cleaning the guns they had just used as Michelle added some information to the wall behind the headboards where they had taped up all the information they had. It was very neat and organized.

She had been spouting off ideas and theories when her cell began to ring. She quickly answered it and spoke quietly to the person on the other end. She turned around to face Sam when the conversation ended, "It was Bobby," she told him, "He's been looking for the Trickster too. No leads so far. But he said we did a hell of a job on the vampire nest in Austin."

Sam let out a little laugh, "Sounds like Bobby."

He groaned as Michelle smiled softly. She reached over and took the gun from him, laying it down on a table and pushing him gently down onto the bed, "I think it's time we got some rest," she hummed quietly, laying down on his uninjured side, "We had a big night, I think we deserve some good shut eye."

He nodded drowsily now that he was laying down and warm with her in his arms. He tilted his head to nuzzle the top of her head, "I love you," he murmured, starting to fall asleep. It was a promise he had made to himself, with their lives being what they were, never knowing what might happen, he'd sworn that, at least once a day, he'd tell Michelle that he loved her.

He could feel her smile on his bare chest at the words, "I love you too."

~8~

"Sam," Michelle whispered urgently, shaking Sam from his sleep one morning, "Sam!"

"Hmm?" Sam groaned, rolling over and sitting up, "What happened?"

"I got a call," she said, hesitating, "From Bobby…he found him."

That was all Sam needed to jump out of the bed and rush around the room, getting ready to head out. Now that they had the Trickster, they weren't going to let him get away.

They hightailed it to the Mystery Spot where Bobby had instructed them to meet him, driving all day and into the night till they found him.

He was standing outside the Spot, something drawn on the ground in chalk, preparing for some sort of ritual, when they pulled up. Bobby and Sam eyed each other for a moment, Michelle frowning a moment at Bobby before shaking her head.

Bobby got up and hugged Sam, "It's good to see you boy," he said.

"I'm so sorry Bobby," Sam replied, hugging the man back.

"Don't worry about it," he waved Sam off, stepping back.

"So what are we doing here?" Michelle asked, stepping forward and getting a hug for herself.

"This is the last place we're sure the Trickster worked him magic."

"So?" Sam shook his head.

"So, you want this thing? I found a summoning ritual, to bring the Trickster here," he walked back to where he was setting up, Sam and Michelle following slowly.

"What do you need?"

The same dark edge Michelle had heard in his voice the first two months was back. He was desperate to save his brother.

"Blood," Bobby answered.

"How much blood?" Michelle said, growing uncomfortable.

"Ritual says near a gallon, and it's gotta be fresh too."

"Meaning we have to bleed a person dry," Sam muttered, his hope fading.

"And it's gotta be tonight, or not for another 50 years."

It was silent for a moment, both Michelle and Bobby staring at Sam, waiting for him to speak, "Then let's go get some."

Michelle's mouth dropped open as Sam turned to leave.

"You break my heart kid," Bobby muttered, causing Sam to stop in his tracks.

"What?" Sam asked, turning around.

"I'm not gonna let you murder an innocent man."

"Me either," Michelle added quietly.

Sam glared at them, "Then why are we here?"

"Why?" Bobby shouted, "Because it's the only way you'd see me. Because I'm trying to knock some sense into you. Because I thought you'd back down from killing a man."

"Well, you thought wrong," Sam glared, "Leave the stuff I'll do it myself."

"I told you, I'm not gonna let you kill anyone."

"It's none of your damn business what I do!"

"But it_ is_ mine," Michelle moved to stand in front of him, "I know you want Dean back but…"

"Fine," Bobby cut in, pulling out a knife from his bag.

"What are you talking about?" Michelle turned to him.

"Better me than a civilian," Bobby commented, holding out the knife for Sam to take.

Sam shook his head as Bobby handed him the knife, "You're crazy Bobby, I'm not killing you."

"Oh, now _I'm_ the crazy one," Bobby rolled his eyes, "Look, Sam. I'm old, I'm coming near the end of my trail. But you can keep fighting, saving folks, but you need your brother. So, let me give him back to you."

"Bobby…"

"You and Dean, you...you boys, you two and Michelle, you're the closest thing I have to family," Bobby interrupted. Sam shook his head and Bobby held up the hand with the knife, "Or would you rather it be Michelle than me?"

"No!" Sam shouted, so vehemently that Michelle actually jumped.

Bobby stared at him, "I wanna do this."

Sam slowly reached out and took the knife from him, "Ok."

"Sam!" Michelle shouted.

"Good," Bobby replied, turning around to kneel before the drawing, "Just make it quick," Sam paused, looking down at the knife, "Do it son."

Sam stepped over to Michelle, "Trust me," he said to her, looking meaningfully in her eyes before walking behind Bobby, "Yeah, ok, Bobby," he slowly pulled out a wooden stake covered in blood, "But you wanna know why?" he knelt down and stabbed him in the back with the stake so hard that it came out the front, "Because you're _not_ Bobby."

Bobby grunted and fell forward while Sam stood up and glared down at the body.

Nothing happened.

Sam looked up at Michelle, who was staring at the body that was still there.

"Bobby?" Sam said slowly, "Bobby?" when the body didn't disappear, Sam started to panic, what if he was wrong? "Bobby!"

Just then, Bobby's body shimmered and disappeared, the stake falling to the floor for a moment before flying through the air behind Sam, to the Trickster, who caught it easily.

Sam turned around, not surprised, but taking a few steps forward to stand before Michelle, protecting her.

"You're right, I was just screwing with you," the Trickster admitted, "Pretty good though Sam, smart. Let me tell you, whoever said _Dean_ was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hand. Ho-ho-holy Full Metal Jacket."

"Bring him back," Sam demanded.

"Who, Dean? Didn't my girl send you the flowers? Dean's dead, he ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak."

"Just take us back to that Tuesday...or Wednesday, when it all started please," Sam said, his dark edge fading fast, becoming more desperate, "We won't come after you, I swear."

The Trickster eyed him, "You swear?"

"Yes!"

"I don't know," the Trickster sighed, "Even if I could..."

"You can!"

"True, but that doesn't mean I _should_," the Trickster looked at him for a moment, before becoming serious, "Sam, there's a lesson here I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of yours."

"A lesson?" Sam asked, confused, "What lesson?"

The Trickster took a few steps towards him, speaking calmly, as if he were _really_ trying to get through to someone, "This obsession to save Dean, the way _you two_ keep _sacrificing_ yourselves for _each other_? It has to _stop._ _Nothing_ good comes out of it, just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. The bad guys know it too. He's gonna be the death of you Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go..."

"He's my _brother_," Sam said brokenly, on the verge of tears.

"Yup, and like it or not, _this_ is what life's gonna be like without him," the Trickster stated. He opened his mouth to continue, when another voices spoke.

"I get it," Michelle said quietly. The Trickster turned to face her, seeing her eyes on him and staring at him even with tears in them, "I _understand_," she added meaningfully, not breaking her gaze from the Trickster for a few moments. Then she glanced at Sam, who was staring at the floor, tears falling from his eyes. She sighed and looked back at the Trickster, "Their promises might mean nothing, but if you know them then you know me. My dad taught me to honor my word. I _always_ keep my promises," she took a breath, "And I promise I won't let them go after you, but you have to bring Dean back. It isn't his time, not yet."

The Trickster eyed her for a moment, seeming to consider her words, before nodding and smirking, "Oh alright, but only for you princess."

He snapped his fingers.

~8~

Sam and Michelle slowly awoke to the tune of 'Back in Time' by Huey Lewis and the News playing on the radio. They sat up just as slowly to see Dean leaning out of the bathroom.

"Were you two gonna sleep all day?" he asked, staring at them. When they failed to say anything, he nodded towards the radio, "I know, no Asia, this station sucks."

Sam looked down at the clock to see that the date was set at WED and then back up at Dean, his eyes shining with tears.

"It's Wednesday," Sam stated.

"Yeah, which usually follows Tuesday," Dean nodded, "Turn that thing off."

Sam ignored his brother and threw off the covers, crossing the room to hug Dean tightly.

Dean looked at Michelle curiously over his brother's shoulder, only to see her shake her head in confusion as well, "Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?" he asked.

"Enough," Sam sighed, "Wait…" he pulled away and gave Dean a look, worry clear on his face.

"I remember you two were pretty wacked out yesterday. I remember catching up with the Trickster. That's about it."

"Let's go," Sam said suddenly, rushing to get ready.

"No breakfast?"

"No breakfast."

Dean sighed, "Alright, I'll go pack the car."

"Wait, you're not going anywhere alone."

"It's all over Sam," Michelle commented, "The Trickster said it would be Wednesday, and it is. I'm pretty sure it's over."

"It's the parking lot Sam," Dean nodded.

Sam froze in his place and looked over at Michelle, sitting up in bed, "But…the parking lot…"

"What about it?" she shook her head.

"Cal?" Sam tried, "He…don't you remember?"

She eyed him curiously, "Oh I remember all the Tuesdays alright, hard to forget those."

"No, I mean…" he paused, before letting his eyes fall closed in realization. She clearly didn't remember anything that had happened the last six months after their first Wednesday. Nothing at all. Not the hunting, not the confessions of love, not the…other memories. But why? She'd remembered all the other days, why not the months?

"Sam, you ok?" Michelle's voice cut over to him.

He looked up, "Yeah, I'm…I'm fine," maybe it was for the best. He didn't _ever_ want her to remember how he'd treated her the first few months. Not ever, "Can you go with him to the parking lot?" he asked her, she tilted her head in question, "Just...just trust me."

Seeing his serious expression, she nodded and got up to get dressed as quickly as she could to go out to the lot with Dean. They loaded up the car fairly easily, no signs of any looming dangers. Dean said he was going back to the room to get Sam and she agreed to wait outside and guard the Impala.

She watched as Dean walked back into the motel before sighing, "You're getting rusty."

"You're not going to tell him you remember?" the Trickster commented, standing next to her.

She shook her head, her eyes still on the motel, "No, Sam wouldn't want me to remember him going down that path, so I won't let him know that I do," she glanced over at him, "But you might want to be careful, you give away too much about yourself."

"How so?" he tilted his head and looked at her.

She smiled a bit, "There's only one person on Earth that has the power to do what you do. Killing someone repeatedly and bringing them back, that's something beyond a Trickster."

"Guess I'll have to be more careful," he smirked, glancing at the motel door where he could hear Sam and Dean approaching, "Give them my best."

She looked to her side to see he had disappeared just before Sam and Dean walked through the door, laughing about something involving clowns and midgets.

She really had to ask them about that one day.

A/N: _So_ many questions in this chapter. What does Michelle 'get' about what the Trickster said? Is there more to it than Sam thinks? What will happen now that Sam remebers the six months and Michelle 'doesn't' or so he thinks? Why did Michelle notice the Trickster in the diner _before_ the syrup incident? Why didn't she tell Sam what the Trickster really was? Why didn't she tell them that the Trickster was still alive? And...why does he call her princess? Isn't that almost too sweet a nickname (given the thousands he _could_ use) for him to give any old stranger travelling with the Winchesters?

We'll find out...eventually. I'm actually hoping that, by now, a lot of questions have come up regarding the mystery that is Michelle. If I do my job right, as you read on, little things will fall into place and when the big 'ah ha!' moment comes, you'll be like 'OMG she hinted at that all along!' Or so I hope :)

Sorry this chapter was a little late, I ended up staying at my job till 9pm(!) last night because we're expecting a hurricane to hit on Sunday/Monday and no one there was sure if we'd be in so we had to get a lot covered, that's about 12 hours and passed out as soon as I got home...completely slept through my alarm this morning lol.


	10. Jus in Bello

Jus in Bello

They had managed to track Bela down to Colorado due largely to Bobby and Michelle's contacts. One day they'd been driving down the road and Michelle got a call telling them that Bela was in Colorado and now there they were, breaking into the woman's hotel room. Sam picked the lock and now he, Dean, and Michelle were poking around Bela's room, spread out, guns drawn and ready for anything. Sam moved to check the bathroom while Michelle checked the safe and closet. Dean placed his gun down on the dresser and searched through it. The only thing that had anything in it was a drawer of clothes and another of wigs.

"Any sign of it?" Dean asked as Sam walked into the room.

"Nothing," Michelle replied.

Sam shook his head as well, "Sure this is Bela's room?"

Dean held up two wigs for them to see and turned around, "I'd say so."

Sam nodded, apparently recognizing the wigs from somewhere, when the phone began ringing.

Dean looked at the two of them, questioningly. They both just shrugged. He sighed and reached out to pick up the phone when Michelle motioned to wait. She went into the bathroom and tossed him a facecloth to use to hide his prints. He smirked, using it to pick up the phone, holding it away from his face so he could hear but not leave any evidence on it.

They waited a moment to see if Dean would speak but he seemed to be waiting for Bela to do the same, "Where are you?" he demanded after a moment, apparently it _was_ Bela.

Michelle looked over at Sam who nodded to the rest of the room. She nodded back and they both went to work, looking around the beds and desk, while Dean continued on his conversation. They listened, hearing Dean go from angry and annoyed to smug. They only paused in their searching when they heard Dean go from smug to worried. They looked up to see his expression move to one of confusion, when the doors to the room burst open and police officers stormed in, guns drawn.

"Hands in the air!" the first officer shouted, while three more entered. Dean dropped the phone while Sam and Michelle raised their hands, "Down on your knees!"

Dean lifted his arms, the gun still in hand, and shook his head in disbelief, Bela had one-uped him, "Bitch!"

"Down on the ground, now!" the first officer repeated.

Dean knelt down as Sam and Michelle followed his lead. The second officer walked over to him, pushing him down into the floor, "Do it."

The third officer made his way to Sam, pushing him, while the fourth went to Michelle. The first officer stood there, his gun trained on them.

"Go!" the third officer shouted at Sam while the second officer proceeded to handcuff Dean.

"Sam and Dean Winchester, you have the right to remain silent," the second officer began.

"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," the third continued with Sam, handcuffing him as well.

Sam struggled, looking over to his side to see the fourth officer holding Michelle to the floor, his gun trained on her, but not cuffing her. He looked back to check on his brother to see a fifth pair of shoes enter the room, but was unable to look up to see who it was.

"You have the right to speak to an attorney and have an attorney present during any questioning," the second officer said.

"If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you at government expense," the third officer finished.

"Sir," the fourth one called as the fifth man came to a stop before the brothers, "This one wasn't on the warrant. What should we do with her?"

"Cuff her," the man replied, clearly in charge, "She can't be all that sweet if she's travelling with these two."

The fourth officer nodded and moved to cuff Michelle as well.

The man knelt down, revealing Agent Henricksen to the boys, decked out in a bulletproof vest with an FBI field jacket over it, "Hi, guys. It's been a while."

Dean and Sam looked at each other with wide eyes, they were in a shit load of trouble now. Dean let his head drop onto the carpet and shook his head into it.

They were _screwed_.

~8~

Sam, Dean, and Michelle were slowly being led towards the police station. It wasn't easy goings as Sam and Dean were chained together while Michelle was simply handcuffed. Her hands were shoved behind her back though, one of the officers had tried to search her in a…private area…and she'd grabbed his arm and twisted it, threatening to break it if he touched her there again. One of the officers had argued that, for all they knew, Michelle might be an innocent bystander or at least an unwilling accomplice and chaining her up might be bad for them if anything arose in court. Henricksen, who knew nothing of who Michelle was, having never seen her before, having only been focusing on capturing the brothers since they repeatedly gave him the slip, begrudgingly agreed, though he insisted that two officers be assigned to her since she was less restrained.

"Reidy," Henricksen called over the radio.

Officer Reidy quickly replied, "Yeah Vic?"

"Bring 'em in."

Reidy nodded, even though he was on a walkie-talkie, nudging the boys to walk faster, "You got it, on our way in."

The doors to the station opened and Sam and Dean were led in first, an officer on either side of them, with Michelle behind them, sandwiched between two men. They came to a stop in front of Henricksen, two other officers, and a young woman, most likely the secretary.

"Why all the sourpusses?" Dean asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Sam and Michelle stuck with looking around, spotting the woman standing by the desk with a plate that read 'Nancy Fitzgerald, Secretary.' The woman, seeing them looking her way, immediately grabbed her rosary lying on her desk, which Sam and Michelle couldn't help but notice.

"I'll show you to the cells," Officer Reidy said, grabbing Dean's arm.

Dean pulled back, "Hey, hey, hey! Watch the merchandise."

Sam and Dean began walking towards the holding area, Michelle following, though she paused to glance back at Nancy, "Trust me, _we_ aren't the ones you should be scared of Nancy."

An officer nudged her and got her walking off again behind the boys.

Another officer, Dodd, according to the pin on his chest, held the door to one cell open for Sam and Dean to shuffle through, shutting it tight behind them and locking it. The cells were only built for two so Michelle, being the only one not chained to someone else, was forced into a cell across from them by Reidy.

Sam tried to get closer to the bars to check on Michelle while Dean tried to walk to the bed, forgetting they were chained together, and nearly fell over when the slack gave out and they were pulled backwards.

"Ugh!" Dean shouted, catching his balance while Sam turned on him as well, "Dean, come on!"

Michelle couldn't help but laugh from her cell, sitting on her bed, watching them.

Dean glanced over at her, seeing what she was doing and turned to Sam, "Alright, alright. Sit?"

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

Michelle watched in amusement as they tried moving around each other, only serving to get tangled, before finally managing to sit down on the cot, Dean near the door and Sam near the wall.

"How are we gonna Houdini out of this one?" Dean asked, looking from Sam to Michelle.

"Good question," Sam shook his head.

"Don't worry," Michelle called to them, "I'll think of something."

"You?" Dean looked at her incredulously.

"Well, clearly they'll be expecting something from _you_. As far as they know, I might really be an innocent bystander."

Dean looked over at Sam, "We're _so_ screwed."

Sam just nodded, resting his head in his hands.

~8~

About an hour later, Henricksen made his way to the holding cells, he walked straight to Sam and Dean, not even noticing Michelle in the cell behind him. Sam was laying on the bed while Dean was sitting next to him on the edge. They lifted their heads up for a moment, before letting them drop when they saw it was Henricksen.

"You know what I'm trying to decide?" Henricksen smiled, leaning forward against the bars.

"I don't know, what?" Dean bit, "Whether Cialis will help you with your little condition?"

"What to have for dinner tonight," Henricksen's smile widened, "Steak or lobster, what the hell? Surf _and _turf. I got a lot to celebrate. I mean, after all, seeing you two in chains…"

"You kinky son of a bitch," Dean smirked, "We don't swing that way."

"Well, Sam doesn't," Michelle commented, drawing Henricksen's attention, "Not sure about Dean yet…"

"Hey!" Dean shouted while Sam just turned pink.

"Now_, that's_ funny," Henricksen chuckled.

"You know, I wouldn't bust out the melted butter just yet," Dean continued seriously, "You couldn't catch us at the bank…"

"Couldn't keep us in that jail…" Sam added.

"You're right, I screwed up," Henricksen admitted, "I underestimated you. I didn't count on you being that smart. But now, I'm ready."

"Ready to lose us again?" Dean asked.

Henricksen glared, "Ready like a court order to keep you in a super-maximum prison in Nevada till trial. Ready like isolation in a soundproof, windowless cell so small, that between you and me, is probably unconstitutional. How's that for ready?"

Michelle scoffed behind him.

He turned around to glare at her, "You think that's funny? Your friends here are gonna be locked up a long time. You're probably not going to get off that lightly either, Lord knows the shit you've done with them."

"Go ahead and try," she smirked.

"You think I won't?" Henricksen moved to her cell.

She shook her head, "Well, it would be kind of hard to stick us in a Supermax prison in Nevada, seeing as how there _isn't_ one."

Dean and Sam's eyes widened at that bit of information.

"And for that matter, the best Supermax containment facility in the country is the ADX facility in Florence, _Colorado_, also called the 'Alcatraz of the Rockies,' specializing in assaultive, violent, and gang-related incidents. It keeps their inmates under 23 hour confinement, 24 hour solitary confinement, no human contact, and no way to move up through good behavior."

"How the…" Henricksen started, but Michelle just continued.

"Prisoners at Supermax prisons are under constant surveillance, usually with closed-circuit television cameras. Cell doors are opaque, while the cells are windowless. Conditions are sparse, with poured concrete or metal furniture bolted in place as the norm. The cells are soundproof to prevent communication between the inmates and even exercise is done in solitary cells."

Halfway through her speech Michelle had leaned back against the wall and shut her eyes, continuing to talk about the Supermax facilities as though reciting something from a book. She opened her eyes to look right at Henricksen, "Supermax prisons are reserved for _the worst_ of the worst. Rapists, group murderers, unabombers, terrorists, mobsters, the _worst_. Mostly those who are a threat to the country. I highly doubt that they would accept a trio of 'Satanists' they've never even _heard of_ before."

She stood up and walked towards the bars, smirking at Henricksen's stunned face. She sighed, rolled her eyes, and reached into her back pocket, pulling out some sort of card from her person, "And besides, it'll be hard to incarcerate a person with a clear record. Look me up," she held out the card, turning her back on him so he could take it.

A helicopter motor was heard overhead, seeming to shock him out of his shock, as lights filled the room. He quickly took the paper, "Don't think I won't."

"I don't really care," she replied, making a motion to shoo him away.

He turned and walked out in a daze.

"How the hell…" Dean was looking at her as stunned as Henricksen had been. Sam was nodding, equally as shocked, his mouth literally hanging open.

She shrugged, sitting back down, "My dad was in the military, he dealt with all sorts of nuts out there. Some worthy of Supermax. Believe me, they definitely don't rate people like us, or even people with _your _track records, on that level," she paused in thought, "Maybe worthy of psychological help, but not Supermax," she nodded, leaning forward before maneuvering her hands up the back of her shirt.

"Um…Michelle…" Sam began, she looked up at him, "What are you doing?"

She frowned, still trying to work her way to what she needed, "You guys remember how I keep telling you I was trained well?" they nodded, she bit her bottom lip as she seemed to find what she was looking for, "Well, that's not just weapons, its preparation too," she tugged at something while the boys watched, "Got it!"

She smiled triumphantly, pulling her hand out of her shirt. She laid down on the bed, wiggling to work her arms towards her knees, bending them and swinging her arms around her legs so they were in front of her. She stood up and held up her hands, revealing a thick pin.

"Where the hell did _that_ come from?" Dean asked, eyeing her as she knelt down and began to try and pick the lock of the cell, the pin being too thick to pick her handcuffs.

"Sewn into my bra," she replied, not even looking up when Dean appeared to choke on the air.

She concentrated on the lock, it was harder to do with just one pin, without a clear view of the hole, having not done it in a long while, but she had to try. She was sure she'd almost gotten it, when the door opened again and a new man walked in.

One glimpse was all she needed to know that this man was demon, or at least possessed by one. She sat back on the bed, hiding the pin in the fold of the sheets on the cot before looking at the boys meaningfully, nodding her head towards the man.

They seemed to get the message judging by how their faces hardened. Sam's eyes narrowed as he watched the man while Dean stood up.

"Sam and Dean Winchester, I'm Deputy Director Steven Groves," he smiled, "This is a pleasure."

"Well, I'm glad one of us feels that way," Dean glared.

"I've been waiting a long time for you two to come out of the woodwork," he drew a gun with a silencer on it and, in a sudden move, turned and shot Michelle in the shoulder, wanting to get the boys alone.

"Michelle!" Sam shouted, jumping up as well. He and Dean quickly reached through the bars and grabbed Groves as he continued to try and shoot at Michelle, who had managed to roll under her cot. They twisted his arm up, but he still kept shooting at her. Dean managed to grab his gun arm while Sam got the gun, both brothers seeing his eyes go black like a demon.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica…" Sam began, trying to exorcize the man.

Groves shook his head, "Sorry I've gotta cut this short. It's gonna be a long night fellas," he opened his mouth, throwing his head back as smoke poured out of his mouth and fled through the vent in the ceiling.

The body fell to the floor, ignored by the brothers, who were now trying to lean through the bars and see if Michelle was ok.

"Michelle!" Sam shouted again.

"Come on Mickey!" Dean added, waiting a moment. They could just barely see her curled under the cot, but so far she wasn't moving.

Sam knelt on the ground, trying to get a better view, "Michelle!"

"Mickey!"

There was as soft groan as Michelle wiggled her way out from under the cot, "Don't call me that," she grumbled, clutching her left shoulder, blood seeping from between her fingers as she flinched, trying to sit up. They could see a small trail of blood on the floor from her wiggling, "Damn it."

Sam was about to ask if she was ok, when the door burst open and Dodd and another officer, whose tag read Amici, ran in. Dodd quickly raised his gun at Sam and Dean, "Alright, put the gun down!"

Sam looked at his hand, as if just realizing he'd grabbed Groves' gun, "Wait, ok, wait!" he started kneeling down, putting his hands up.

"He shot him," Dodd said, staring at the body on the floor.

"I didn't shoot him, ok, I didn't shoot anyone," Sam said as Dean started kneeling as well.

"That damn _cop_ shot _me_!" Michelle called, "They were trying to _stop_ him!"

Dodd glanced over at her to see her with a bullet wound in her shoulder.

"Get on your knees now!" Henricksen shouted, running into the room with Reidy, pointing his gun at Sam and Dean.

"Ok, ok, ok, don't shoot, please," Sam said, placing the gun down and sliding it through the bars to them, "Look, here. Here, ok, ok."

Henricksen pointed his gun at Sam while Reidy moved his own gun between the two.

"Sir, he shot the girl," Amici stated, "And Groves."

"They didn't shoot anyone!" Michelle shouted at the same time as Sam said, "We didn't shoot anyone!"

"Check the body," Michelle called, "There's no blood, he did _not_ kill him."

Henricksen glanced at the woman before looking at the body, "Go ahead, check him."

Reidy knelt down and checked for a pulse, not finding one or any blood from a shot, "Vic, there's no bullet wound."

"He's probably been dead for months," Dean commented.

"What did you do to him?" Henricksen demanded.

"We didn't do anything!" the trio shouted.

"Talk or I shoot!"

Dean stared at him a moment, "You won't believe us."

"He was possessed," Sam tried.

Dodd looked horrified, but Henricksen was skeptical, "Possessed, _right_. Fire up the chopper, we're taking them out of here, now."

"Yeah, you do that," Michelle commented, glaring at the man.

Reidy walked out of the room with the other three officers, leaving Henricksen with the trio.

Henricksen lowered his gun and looked over at Michelle, "Don't know why you would go and get yourself mixed up with the likes of these," he commented to her, "Checked your file, clean as a whistle. Your dad would be disappointed though."

Her glare intensified, "My dad would be proud, he went after the same things they did."

"You got the _wrong_ guys," Dean stressed.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, you fight _monsters_," Henricksen rolled his eyes, turning to Dean, "Sorry, Dean, truth is your daddy brainwashed you with all that Devil talk, just like you probably brainwashed that girl over there."

"You keep telling yourself that," Michelle called over to him, "When whatever demon killed your friend here," she nodded at Groves, "Comes after you, then you'll be asking for our help."

Henricksen opened his mouth to comment when Reidy walked back in, "Sir, we got a problem," he held up his radio, "I tried contacting Bill, this is all I got," he pressed the button, only for static to play. Henricksen waited a moment for it to clear but when it didn't he motioned with his head for Reidy to go check it out

They sat in silence for a moment, Henricksen waiting for Reidy to come back, when all of a sudden there was a huge explosion.

"What the hell was _that_?" Henricksen asked out loud. He reached for his radio, "Reidy? Reidy?" but there was no reply. He tried a few times to contact his partner, but still was met with the same static. He turned and stalked out of the room to see what was going on, leaving the trio alone.

Moments later the lights shut off until the backup generator kicked them back on.

"Oh, that _can't_ be good," Dean commented.

Michelle groaned in pain as she applied more pressure to her wound.

"You ok?" Sam asked, looking over at Michelle who was still sitting against the bed, holding her arm.

"I'll be fine," she ground out.

"What's the plan?" Henricksen demanded, stepping out of nowhere, "Kill everyone in the station and bust you two out?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean countered.

"I'm talking about your psycho friends, I'm talking about a bloodbath."

"Ok, look, whoever's out there is _not _here to _help_ us," Michelle glared at him.

"Look, you gotta believe us," Sam tried again, "Everyone here is in terrible danger."

"You think?" Henricksen retorted.

"Why don't you let us out of here so we can save your asses," Dean nearly shouted. He really couldn't care less about everyone else at that point, he and Sam just really wanted to check on Michelle who was now twice as pale as she had been.

"From what?" Henricksen demanded.

Sam and Dean looked at each other, fidgeting, before looking at Michelle who shook her head. He wouldn't believe them.

"You gonna say 'demons?' Don't you dare say 'demons.' Let me tell you something, you should be a lot more scared of _me_," Henricksen sneered at them before walking out.

Dean rolled his eyes at the guy before looking over at Michelle, who was crawling over to the small toilet paper dispenser and grabbing a wad full to press on her wound, "How's the shoulder?"

She looked up at him, "Fan-fucking-tabulous," she replied sarcastically before sighing and shaking her head, "I'll live, you know, if we get out of here alive that is. So you guys got a plan?"

Dean smirked, "I thought _you _were going to think of something?"

She opened her mouth to reply when Sam motioned for them to be quiet.

"Hey, hey uh..." Sam began, they followed his gaze to see Nancy the secretary hiding behind a corner to the holding cells, "Please. Please, we need your help. It's Nancy. Nancy, right?" she nodded, taking a small step from the wall, "Nancy, my…Michelle's been shot," he cleared his throat, hoping neither his brother nor Michelle noticed his slip. From the way Dean was smirking, he certainly had, but Michelle looked more focused on her shoulder than anything, "She's…she's bleeding really bad," he nodded in Michelle's direction, Nancy glanced over, "You think, maybe, you could get her a towel? Please, just one clean towel? Look…look at us, we're not the bad guys, I swear."

Nancy looked at Michelle, who was resting her head on the cot, her eyes closed. She shook her head and turned to leave, when Michelle suddenly spoke, "'Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. And do not judge and you will not be judged; and do not condemn, and you will not be condemned; pardon, and you will be pardoned. Give and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, they will pour into your lap. For by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you in return.'"

Nancy froze, looking back at Michelle for a moment, before rushing out of the room.

"What was that?" Sam asked, tilting his head.

"Luke 6:36-38," Michelle sighed, "I thought she might need some extra incentive."

Dean tried to smile, worried, because Michelle's words seemed softer, weaker, than before, "Nice try," he sat back on the cot while Sam stayed seated on the floor, better able to keep an eye on Michelle as she got up and resumed trying to pick the lock.

A minute later the door to the holding room opened slowly and Nancy reappeared, a towel in her hands. The sound of the door startled Michelle, making her drop the pin too far away to reach it. She scooted back as Nancy started walking towards the cell, not having noticed what the girl was doing before she opened the door.

"Thank you," Sam called to her.

Michelle looked up to see Nancy standing there. She smiled and stood up slowly, swaying just a bit from the sudden change, "It's ok," Michelle replied, stepping to the bars. Nancy eyed her warily, but held out the towel anyway, holding in through the bars for her to take, "Thanks," she reached out to take the towel, but quickly grabbed the top of the woman's skirt with her other hand, pulling her towards the cell.

Nancy screamed and jerked away from the bars just as Amici ran in, "Let her go!" he shouted, gun trained on Michelle, "Stay back."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean tried to calm from the other side of the room.

Michelle held up the towel, watching as Amici kept the gun trained on her but looked at Nancy, "You ok Nance?"

Nancy eyed the woman with tears in her eyes, shaking. Michelle just looked down as Amici glanced at Sam and Dean, then back at Michelle. He stepped back towards the door, Nancy behind him, eyeing all three, "Try something again, get shot, and not in the arm."

"Ok," Sam promised, eyeing Michelle curiously. She hadn't been violent, but the action _was_ very unexpected.

Amici backed out, Nancy going out first, until he was all the way out, and shut the door behind him.

"What the hell was that?" Dean shouted at her, truly scared that she might get shot.

She just gave him a tired smile and held up the rosary that had been poking out of Nancy's pocket.

Dean still looked at her confused, "O…k…so you wanted to pray. Couldn't you have done that without freaking the poor girl out?"

Sam rolled his eyes, smacking his brother behind the head. He turned and caught the beads as Michelle tossed them to him, "It's for holy water," Sam explained, before looking at her, "Don't you want to put it in your cell?"

She shrugged, wincing as she did, "I'd probably bleed on them and that would just taint the water. You guys should do it. Besides, if another demon comes in, one against two chained men is better odds than one against an injured girl."

~8~

"We're like sitting ducks in here," Sam commented, watching Michelle press the now pink towel against her shoulder.

"Yeah, I know," Dean commented, laying on the cot, but watching Michelle out of the corner of his eye, "Would it kill these cops to bring us a snack?"

"How many do you think are out there?" Michelle asked, glancing towards the front. They had figured out from Henricksen's words that there must be someone after them, they just didn't know who or how many.

"I don't know," Dean shook his head.

"However many there are, they could be possessing anyone," Sam nodded, "Anyone could just walk right in."

"And they'd have no idea," Michelle commented.

Dean laughed, "It's kind of wild right? I mean, it's like they're coming right for us. Never done that before," Sam frowned in thought while Dean smirked, "It's like we got a contract on us. You think it's because we're so awesome?"

Michelle laughed as well, "Yeah, it's because we're so awesome," Sam just shot them both a disapproving look, "Oh lighten up Sammy. Might as well give a reason for them to be coming after us. Out of all the possibilities, I like this one best."

The door to the holding room opened again and Dodd walked in. Michelle opened her eyes and watched him walk over towards the boys' cell and unlock it.

"Well, howdy there Sheriff," Dean greeted with a thick accent.

Sam and Dean stood up and faced Dodd, looking at the lock.

"Uh, Sheriff?" Sam asked, glancing at Michelle, who seemed as confused as them. He mouthed 'demon?' to her, but she shook her head, he was all human as far as she could tell.

"It's time to go, boys," Dodd said, moving into the cell towards them.

Dean still seemed suspicious of the man's actions and backed up, "Uh...you know what? We're…we're just comfy right here, but thank you."

Just then Henricksen walked into the room and over to the cell as well, "What do you think you're doing?"

Sam looked over, catching Michelle stiffen out of the corner of his eye. She nodded firmly, _now_ there was a demon with them.

"I'm not just gonna sit around here and wait to die," Dodd argued, "We're gonna make a run for it."

"It's safer here," Henricksen stated.

"There's a SWAT facility in Boulder."

Sam nudged Dean as the two officers continued to bicker, nodding towards Henricksen meaningfully. Dean nodded, understanding.

"We're not going anywhere," Henricksen said as he entered the cell.

"The hell we're not," Dodd replied, turning to face him.

Before anyone could react, Henricksen raised a gun and shot Dodd in the head.

Dean instantly reached forward and grabbed the gun while Sam grabbed the man's free arm. Moving together, they forced Henricksen over to the toilet and pushed his face into it. Henricksen, seeing the rosary at the bottom of the toilet full of now-holy water, turned his eyes black.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…" Sam began exorcizing him.

Amici ran into the holding room, but Dean grabbed Henricksen's gun and pointed it at Amici, "Stay back!"

Amici lifted his arms in surrender as Sam continued to exorcize the demon, "Omnis incursio infernalis adversarii," he lifted Henricksen's head from the toilet, steam rising from it. Seeing he was still possessed, he dunked the head back down. Nancy ran into the room, seeing Dean with a gun pointed at them and Michelle watching Sam intently from her cell, "Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica…"

"Sam, hurry up!" Dean shouted.

Henricksen forced his head up, "It's too late, I already called them, they're already coming."

Sam pushed his head back down, "Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte servire, te rogámus, audi nos."

Henricksen's head snapped up, demon smoke flying out of him and across the room. Dean quickly ducked out of the way, as did Nancy and Amici, both looking stunned. Henricksen fell to the ground as Sam panted and leaned against the bars. Nancy was the first up and walked over to the FBI agent, "Is he…is he dead?"

Henricksen coughed suddenly and rolled onto his side as Sam leaned over to look at him, "Henricksen, hey. Is that you in there?"

"I, uh..." Henricksen sat up, Dean glancing at Michelle for confirmation it was really him. She nodded, "I shot the Sheriff."

Dean grinned, "But you didn't shoot the Deputy."

Sam glared at him, causing him to squirm, before turning to Henricksen, "Five minutes ago I was fine," the FBI man said, "And then..."

Dean pushed himself up, "Let me guess, some nasty black smoke jammed itself down your throat?"

Henricksen looked over at Dean in disbelief, how had he known?

"You were possessed," Michelle told him.

"Possessed, like..._possessed_?" the man tried to comprehend.

"That's what it feels like, now you know," Michelle nodded.

Dean looked over at the man, "I owe you the biggest I-told-you-so ever," he handed the man his gun back as Henricksen got up.

"Officer Amici, keys," he demanded.

Amici tossed the keys to him and looked down at Dodd. Henricksen quickly uncuffed and unchained the brothers before Sam stole the keys and went to unlock Michelle's cell. He stepped in and uncuffed her, immediately checking on her shoulder. She smiled reassuringly to him, showing him that it had mostly stopped bleeding. He hugged her close as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Alright, so, how do we survive?" Henricksen turned to Dean.

"I told you so," Michelle smirked before pushing off Sam and getting serious, "Ok, we're going to need a rundown of all exits, an inventory of all weapons, and the most fortified room in the building to make our base. Then we need to gather supplies such as chalk or paint, and…" she walked off and out of the room, still listing things they needed to do and get while the group watched her.

"Her dad was in the military," Dean said to Nancy and Amici in explanation.

Sam just smiled and walked after her, soon followed by the rest.

~8~

Sam was bending over a Devil's Trap, spray painting it on the floor in red paint. Dean was looking over the floor plans Michelle had requested, making sure that every entrance was covered. Henricksen and Amici came in, carrying all the ammo and weapons they could find, piling them on a desk where Michelle was examining them as Nancy patched up her wound.

"That's nice," she said darkly, "But it's not gonna do much good."

"We got an arsenal here!" Amici exclaimed, looking at all the guns.

"You don't poke a bear with a BB gun, it's just gonna make him mad," Dean explained.

"What do you need?" Henricksen turned to him.

"Salt," Michelle stated, "Lots of salt."

"Salt?" Amici repeated.

"Is there an echo in here?" Dean glared at the man, "The woman said salt, go get salt!"

"There's road salt in the storeroom," Nancy commented.

"Perfect," Dean smiled at her, "Perfect!"

Michelle nodded, "We need salt at every window and every door."

Henricksen and Amici quickly went off to salt the windows and doors while Dean walked over to inspect Nancy's work, "How you holding up, Nancy?" he asked.

"Ok..." she swallowed, looking up at him, "When I was little I would come home from church and talk about the Devil. My parents would tell me to stop being so literal. I guess I showed them huh?" Michelle laughed as Nancy put one last piece of tape on the gauze bandage, "That should hold."

"Thank you," she smiled at the woman.

"Sure," Nancy smiled back.

Amici came in with the road salt as Michelle hopped off the stool and moved to help Sam finish drawing the mark.

"Hey, where's my car?" Dean asked him.

"Impound lot out back," Amici nodded towards the back.

"Ok," Dean nodded, walking in that direction, ignoring Michelle and Sam eyeing him.

"Wait, you're not going out there?"

"Yeah, I gotta get something out of my trunk," he said, walking out the door.

~8~

Dean had only been outside not even five minutes before he came running back into the station with a bag, closing the door behind him. Nancy, Amici, and Henricksen were salting the windows while Michelle and Sam worked on another Devil's Trap.

"They're coming!" he shouted at them, just before a rumbling of a demon cloud could be heard, closing in on them.

The lights started to flicker.

Nancy looked out the window as she poured the salt to see the demon cloud slam into it. She screamed and jumped back.

"Hurry!" Michelle yelled as they all finished their tasks and gathered in the middle of the room. Dean tossed Sam and Michelle a gun.

The cloud continued to slam into the doors and windows, trying to find a way in. It only served to make everyone inside nervous, each going over their jobs to see if they had missed something that might let it in. Nancy clutched her cross necklace impulsively, her knuckles nearly white in fear. Michelle took a step next to her and took the woman's other hand in comfort. The building suddenly shook as the lights from the street lamps outside were blocked by the smoke. It thumped against the building, going for one more attack.

Nancy scrunched her eyes shut and seemed to be about to hyperventilate. The boys looked at each other uncomfortably, worried for the woman. Michelle squeezed the woman's hand and began to whisper to her, "'Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil,'" as she spoke Nancy visibly relaxed till she was able to continue on her own.

"'For you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me,'" she finished.

"Better?" Michelle asked, eyeing the woman. She nodded. Michelle looked at the boys, who stared at her questioningly, "Psalm 23:4."

They just shook their heads, when the pounding on the building stopped and the demon smoke disappeared. They waited a few moments, everything was silent.

"Everybody ok?" Sam asked, looking around.

"Define 'ok,'" Henricksen commented.

Dean pulled out the duffel bag that he'd taken to the car and a drawstring bag, "Right, everybody needs to put these on. It'll keep you from being possessed," he tossed them protective amulets, not taking one for himself or Sam. He held up one to Michelle but she shook her head.

"What about you?" Nancy asked them, noticing this.

Dean and Sam pulled down their shirt collars to reveal matching protective tattoos on their chests.

"Smart," Henricksen nodded, "How long have you had those?"

"Not long enough," Sam replied.

Henricksen turned to Michelle, "What about you?"

Michelle shrugged, "I can't get possessed."

"What?" Sam and Dean nearly shouted at her, clearly they hadn't known this little bit of information.

"I can't get possessed," she repeated, "Demons have tried in the past, but it never ended well for them. I think my powers protected me, purified me everytime they tried, kept them out," she turned around and lifted the back of her shirt to reveal a smaller tattoo of protection on the small of her back, "But just to be safe."

The boys shook their heads at her before moving around the room to check the traps and salts while she went to get the guns they could use ready.

Nancy glanced out the window to see a group of people standing outside the station, "Hey, that's Jenna Rubner."

Michelle and Sam looked at each other before walking over to Nancy and looking outside. Jenna's eyes were black, "That's not Jenna anymore," Sam replied.

"None of them are who they were," Michelle commented, looking down the line of people, seeing all of them as demons.

"That's where all that black demon smoke went?" Nancy looked at them

"Looks like," Sam nodded, looking over at Michelle while Amici went to look out a window himself, "How bad is it?"

Michelle sighed, squinting, "There aren't many powerful ones, I'd say maybe one, two? Three tops? But still, an army of less powerful demons is still an army of demons."

"We better prepare then," Sam said, stepping away.

~8~

Dean burst into the main room with Henricksen just after someone broke through the window. He looked up to see Michelle and Amici pointing a gun at the intruder with Nancy and Sam standing behind them. Sam seemed to have been inspecting the salt lines at a window before spinning around.

"How do we kill her?" Henricksen asked, eyeing the blonde woman.

Sam walked closer, "We don't."

"She's a demon!"

Sam just shook his head and pushed Henricksen's shotgun down, "She's here to help us."

"Are you kidding?" Amici asked, staring at him as though the man had gone insane.

"I wish he was," Michelle shook her head, lowering her gun as Ruby stood up.

"Are you gonna let me out?" she asked, motioning to the Devil's Trap she was stuck in. Sam leaned down and scraped the paint, allowing Ruby to step out, "And they say chivalry's dead," she scratched her head and looked at them, "Does anyone have a breath mint? Some guts splattered in my mouth while I was killing my way in here."

Dean, Sam, and Michelle exchanged a look before Dean moved to follow Ruby out of the room, followed by Henricksen, Amici, and Nancy. Sam grabbed the spray paint to fix the trap while Michelle when to straighten the salt at the window before following after Dean.

"How many are there?" Michelle asked, walking into the room to see Ruby leaning against a desk, Dean glaring at her.

"Thirty at least, that's so far," Ruby answered.

"Oh, good," Dean said flatly, "Thirty. Thirty hit men, all gunning for us. Who sent them?"

Ruby glanced over at Sam and Michelle, "You didn't tell Dean? Wow, I'm surprised."

Dean looked over at the two of them, "Tell me what?"

"There's a big new up-and-comer. A real pied piper."

Sam sighed and leaned against the door.

"Who is he?" Dean asked.

"Not he, _her_," Ruby corrected, "Her name is Lilith."

"Lilith?" Michelle blanched, "As in 'Adam and Eve' Lilith?"

"What do Adam and Eve have to do with this?" Dean turned to her.

"There are some versions of text that describe Lilith as being Adam's wife."

"Eve was Adam's wife," Nancy recited.

Michelle shook her head, "In most texts yes, but there are some archaic versions of the legend that say that a woman, Lilith, was Adam's _first_ wife. Made from the same clay as her husband she refused to bow to him, claiming they were equal in the eyes of God. When Adam refused to see her as his equal, she left the Garden of Eden and Adam prayed to God for new wife. Hence why Eve is made from Adam's rib, she's subordinate of Adam, she's submissive, lower."

"So what happened to Lilith?"

"Eventually she was discovered by Lucifer, who took an interest in her as the first woman, the first of God's humans that he could get to. It's said that he made Lilith into the first demon, a way to get back at God for casting him out. What better way than to corrupt one half of his first creations?" Michelle glanced at Ruby, "Isn't that right Ruby?"

Ruby didn't answer, but the look on her face clearly said that she was shocked Michelle even knew that information. It was very rare information, there were powerful demons out there who didn't even known about how Lilith came to be.

"She really, _really_ wants Sam's intestines on a stick," Ruby shook herself out of her shock, "Guess she sees him as competition."

Dean looked at Sam, "You _knew_ about this?" Sam just looked at him unwaveringly, "Well, jeez Sam. Is there anything _else_ I should know?"

"I knew too," Michelle cut in, "It was something Tammi said."

"Tammi?" Dean looked confused for a minute, "The witch?"

"Yeah, she…" Michelle began before Ruby scoffed.

"How about the three of you talk about this later?" she glared at them, "We'll need the Colt."

Sam looked down when Ruby looked over at him, before glancing to Dean, who couldn't look her in the eye either.

"It was stolen," Michelle said, glaring at the demon.

"I'm sorry, I must have blood in my ear," Ruby turned on her, "I thought I just heard you say that you were stupid enough to let the Colt get grabbed out of your hands," Ruby pushed away from the desk, "Fantastic!" she walked towards the window and looked out, "This is just peachy."

"Ruby…" Sam began.

"Shut up," Ruby interrupted, holding up a hand for a moment before continuing, "Fine," she turned to face them, her hands on her hips, "Since I don't see that there's any other option, there's one other way I know to get you out of here alive."

"And what's that?" Michelle asked.

"I know a spell. It'll vaporize every demon in a one mile radius, myself included. So, you let the Colt out of your sight and now I have to die. So next time, be more careful. How's that for a dying wish?"

Dean stood up, a bit happy with the idea of Ruby being vaporized, "Ok, what do we need to do?"

"Aw, _you_ can't do anything," she smirked at him, "The spell is very specific, it calls for a person of virtue."

"I got virtue," Dean said, looking offended.

Ruby laughed at that, "Nice try, you're not a virgin."

Dean scoffed at her, "Nobody's a virgin."

Ruby raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to look at Nancy, who was now growing fidgety.

Dean followed her line of sight and looked at the woman, "No, no way. You're kidding me right? You're…"

"What?" she demanded, "It's a choice ok?"

"What?" Dean couldn't help but stare at her, "So you…you never..." Nancy gave him a look and crossed her arms, "Not even _once_? I mean, not even..."

"Dean, leave the girl alone," Michelle cut in, walking next to Nancy and putting an arm around her.

Dean looked thoughtful and impressed, "Wow."

"So, the spell," Nancy looked at Ruby, "What can I do?"

Ruby walked over to stand before Nancy, "You can hold still, while I cut your heart out of your chest."

"What?" Nancy's eyes widened.

"Whoa, what, are you crazy?" Dean added.

"I'm offering a solution," Ruby rolled her eyes.

"You're offering to _kill _somebody," Michelle defended, pushing Nancy behind her.

"And what do you think's gonna happen to this girl when the demons get in?"

"We're gonna protect her, that's what," Henricksen stepped up.

Nancy tried to move forward to break up the fight, but couldn't seem to get past Michelle.

"Very noble," Ruby commented.

"Ex...excuse me?" Nancy looked at her.

"You're all gonna die. Look, this is the _only_ way, trust me."

"Yeah, yeah, there's no way that you're gonna prove to me…" Dean began.

"Will everybody please shut up!" Nancy shouted, earning looks from everyone. She turned to Ruby, "All the people out there, will it save them?"

"It'll blow the demons out of their bodies," Ruby confirmed, "So, if their bodies are ok, yeah."

Michelle scoffed at that, the demons wouldn't hesitate to waste their hosts if they felt themselves being pulled out, they'd take them down with them.

Nancy hesitated a moment before taking a breath, "I'll do it."

"Hell no!" Henricksen shouted.

"No, no, you don't need to do this," Michelle turned to the girl.

"All my friends are out there," Nancy said.

"We don't sacrifice people," Henricksen continued, "We do that, we're no better than them."

"We don't have a choice," Ruby cut in.

"We_ always _have a choice," Michelle glared at her.

"Your choice is _not_ a choice…" Dean agreed with Michelle.

"Sam, you know I'm right," Ruby turned to the silent man.

Dean looked up at Sam, waiting for him to respond, but Sam was silent.

"Sam?" Michelle's brow furrowed as she looked at him, but Sam looked down.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean shouted at his brother, "Sam, _tell_ her!"

Nancy nodded, stepping forward, "It's my decision."

Ruby smiled, "Damn straight, cherry pie…"

"Stop!" Michelle shouted, the tone she used was one more serious than anyone had ever heard from her before, "_No one_ is going to kill Nancy," she said firmly, "There's more than one virgin here, and if _anyone_ is going to be used to stop the demons, it'll be me. Got that?" she looked around the room, breathing hard and glaring at them all, _daring_ them to oppose her.

"You're a virgin?" Sam asked, his eyes wide as he looked at her. He had _not_ been expecting that.

"You're not?" she shot back, answering his obvious question. She turned to face them, "So now we have it. Nancy and I are both virgins, and I will be _damned_ if I let anyone _kill her_ for the sake of stopping _demons_," she turned to Ruby, "Let's do this."

"Stop!" Dean shouted, "Nobody kill any virgins! Sam, Michelle," he glanced at them, "I need to talk to you," he walked out of the room and into the hallway, Sam and Michelle following after him.

"Please tell me you're not actually _considering_ this," Dean looked at Michelle, "We're talking about a demon holding you down and cutting out your heart."

"We're also talking about 30 innocent people out there," Michelle nodded to the doors, "They're all gonna die, along with everyone in here if I don't…"

"No one is killing anyone," Sam finally spoke.

"So _now_ you're against it?" Michelle rounded on him, "What happened to the silent treatment before? Huh? Why let _Nancy_ die for this?"

"No one is _dying_."

Michelle glared at him, not satisfied, "No one is dying _now_, because you _finally_ speak up, but just _minutes ago_ you were willing to let a demon you _barely know_ rip out a girl's _heart_."

"It won't happen…"

"Yeah, because it's _me_. Tell me, what's so special about _me_? Huh? Why was it ok to off _her_ and not _me_? Why…"

"Because I don't _love_ her!" Sam shouted suddenly, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates when he realized what he'd just said.

"You…what…" Michelle tried, seeming unable to form complete sentences.

"I…uh…" Sam looked around the hall, anywhere but at Michelle, his face bright red.

Dean looked between the two, then outside to where he could see a line of people waiting. Not only was this getting to be too much of a chick-flick for him, but there was an army of demons about to break down their door.

"Not to interrupt your little love fest," Dean spoke, "But I got a plan. I'm not saying it's a good one, I'm not even saying it'll work. But it sure as hell beats killing a virgin."

"Ok," Michelle turned to face Dean, glancing at Sam repeatedly.

"So what's the plan?" Sam added.

Dean sighed, glad to have avoided that whole awkward moment, "Open the doors, let them all in, and we fight."

~8~

Sam and Michelle were standing over the equipment in a room off the main part where the group was waiting. Dean was watching them finish up, nod at each other, and head out.

"You get the equipment to work?" he asked them.

"Yeah," Michelle nodded.

"So?" he continued, eyeing them. They were both trying to not look at each other.

"So this is insane," Sam answered.

"You win understatement of the year," Ruby commented.

"Look, I get it," Dean rolled his eyes, "You think…"

"I don't _think_, I _know_," Ruby cut in, "It's _not_ gonna work," she pushed off the desk and walked off, "So long."

"So you're just gonna leave?" Sam eyed her.

Ruby turned to face them, "Hey! I was gonna kill myself to help you win, I'm not gonna stand here and watch you lose. And I'm disappointed, because I tried, I really _did_, but clearly I bet on the wrong horse," she stared at them. Dean and Michelle were glaring at her while Sam looked a bit skeptical that the plan would work. She sighed, "Do you mind letting me out?"

Michelle stepped up and scraped the Devil's Trap with her knife, making a small break in the salt line across the entrance, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Michelle called as Ruby stepped through the door. The demon turned to shoot her a glare before continuing on her way. As soon as she was out the door, Michelle fixed the salt line and shut the door behind her. She turned around to see Sam, Dean, and Henricksen walking towards her.

"You ready?" Dean asked her, stepping to the other door next to her. Sam moved to another set of double doors while Henricksen got a single door.

She nodded, "We all set?"

"Yeah!" Sam called.

"Ready," Henricksen shouted.

Dean smirked, "Let's do this."

They all leaned down and got to work destroying their protections. Dean kicked the salt line by the door while Michelle made a bigger scrape on the Devil's Trap, just as Sam and Henricksen did the same. They all kicked the doors open and braced themselves with shotguns, ready to take on the demons, moving back behind counters and desks and cabinets for cover. They only had to wait a few moments before the demons began to run in.

Dean went to blast the first demon that ran through the door, but Michelle had beaten him to it, so he took the second one. They could see Sam take out his first demon but get tackled from the side as he reloaded.

Sam struggled when the demon suddenly flew to the side. He got up quickly to see Michelle moving her gun from his direction to fire at another demon running in. He couldn't even shout his thanks as a demon ran at him, but he was prepared and hit it with the butt of his gun.

"Go!" Michelle shouted to Dean over her shoulder, moving to fire at the demons. Dean looked at her for a moment, nodding, before racing down the hallway and straight into Henricksen.

"Go, go, go!" Dean yelled at the man as they raced in opposite directions.

Michelle turned back to the demons, stepping back to block the hallway. She fired at a woman and heard a grunt from the other side of the room. Sam was struggling with a demon on his back and there was another one running towards him from the front. Michelle took careful aim and fired, the demon fell, knocked to the side, giving Sam enough time to use his gun to knock the demon off his back and crack it in the face till it was knocked out.

Michelle could hear the sound of guns firing behind her, Dean and Henricksen were fighting off the demons that were streaming in from the back door. She fired at another demon that was headed for Sam, slamming the butt of her gun into the face of another. Sam whipped out a canister of holy water and began spraying it in a circle around him, causing the demons to back off. Some of the demons ran for Michelle, who had already started her own holy water circle. They tried closing in on the two, not able to do much when they couldn't cross the line.

There was a splash behind them as Dean entered the room, making a line of holy water at the door entrance and standing behind it. Sam and Dean exchanged a glance as a demon in Jenna's body jumped onto a desk, walked across it, and jumped down in front of it. She eyed the trio for a moment before holding up her two hands, one sending Dean and Michelle flying into a wall and pinning them there while the other did the same to Sam.

"Henricksen, now!" Dean managed to shout.

Suddenly Michelle's voice began to play over the loudspeakers, reciting the exorcism. She and Sam had duked it out over who should record the exorcism. Michelle had won due to her ability to speak quickly and clearly with fewer breaths than Sam.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…"

Jenna and the other demons reached up to cover their ears. One managed to flee out the door before it seemed Nancy could finish making a salt line from the outside. But the rest were not as lucky and now trapped.

"Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te, cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae perditionìs venenum propinare vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis, humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomini quem inferi tremunt ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii..."

Suddenly black demon smoke began to pour out of the bodies of the civilians and gather in a swirling cloud at the ceiling. The trio was dropped to the floor as the civilians were knocked out.

"Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica ergo, draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica, adjuramus te cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae perditionìs venenum propinare ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos..."

They ducked, covering their heads, as the smoke suddenly exploded and dissolved. A moment later Henricksen walked in as they pushed themselves off the floor and looked at each other, stunned.

None of them fully believed it would work.

Henricksen laughed at their expressions while they shrugged. The lights came back on and the people began to stir.

~8~

Sam and Michelle were cleaning up the mess, trying to wipe the paint off the floors and sweep up the salt. Dean and Henricksen were standing to the side, putting the guns away, while Nancy walked around, helping people out of the station.

"I better call in…hell of a story I won't be telling," Henricksen commented.

"So what _are _you going to tell them?" Sam asked, standing up, finished cleaning.

"The least ridiculous lie I can come up with in the next five minutes."

"Good luck with that," Michelle smirked, pouring the last bit of salt back into a bag.

"Not to pressure you or anything, but what are you planning to do about _us_?" Dean asked.

"I'm gonna kill you," Henricksen said seriously, Dean raised an eyebrow before the man chuckled and shook his head, "Sam and Dean Winchester were in the chopper when it caught on fire. Nothing's left, can't even identify them with dental records. Rest in peace guys."

"And what about me?" Michelle walked over to them.

"No record of you at all. The only people we were after were the boys, no one knew you were with them, and as far as anyone's concerned, you weren't taken in with them either."

She smiled, "So I'm invisible?"

He just laughed, "Now, get out of here."

Dean nodded his head in thanks, leading the way out of the building while Sam followed behind with the duffle bag over his shoulder. Michelle picked up the small pouch of protective amulets and left as well.

"Michelle!" Henricksen shouted just before she walked through the door, she paused and looked over at him, "Your dad was a good man. I was wrong, he'd be proud."

She smiled at him and mock saluted before leaving him to make his phone call.

~8~

Sam was pulling a duffle bag out of the Impala while Dean went to check them in. Michelle walked up to his side and sighed, "Hey, Sam…" she began.

He tensed a bit but didn't look up, "Yeah?"

She took a breath, "Before…in the station…when we were arguing, you said…" she hesitated a moment, "…did you mean it?"

Sam was rigid for a few minutes before sighing, pulling the bag out of the back, and shutting the trunk, "It wasn't exactly how I wanted to tell you…"

She smiled softly, "What, with me about to sacrifice myself for the greater good?"

He turned to look at her seriously, "No, yelling it at you. I…"

"You meant it then?" she interrupted softly, seeing him struggle with it.

"Yeah," he said quietly. He leaned against the trunk and looked down at the ground.

Michelle smiled and stepped closer, reaching up to cup his check and turn his head to face her. She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips, pulling away before he could even begin to respond, "I love you too."

His eyes widened at her confession and he stared at her. He searched her eyes for any sign of doubt, but found none there. A smile grew on his face as he leaned forward and resumed kissing her. So lost were they in the kiss that they didn't even hear Dean approach or when he cleared his throat.

"Hey!" he shouted, causing them to jump apart, "Now that we've fulfilled our chick-flick quota for the day, mind if we get some rest?"

Sam and Michelle laughed at his response and followed him into the motel room. Sam quickly fell onto the bed, pulling Michelle with him, as Dean sat on his own bed, shaking his head at the two. He was partially dreading the next few months, knowing there would be chick-flick moments galore.

They didn't get to rest for long, it seemed like as soon as they sat down there was a knock on the door. Sam and Dean exchanged glances as Sam and Michelle moved to a sitting position while Dean went to open the door. He rolled his eyes and opened it wider, letting Ruby walk in. Sam tensed, remembering how close Michelle had come to getting her heart ripped out by the demon, and put an arm around Michelle's shoulder.

Ruby raised an eyebrow at the action before crossing her arms over her chest, "Turn on the news."

Sam, being the closest to the remote, grabbed it and turned on the TV. Dean walked back to his bed and sat down.

"The community is still reeling from the tragedy that happened just a few hours ago," the news reporter announced. The scene changed to the charred remains of a building, a caption below it reading, 'BREAKING NEWS: Explosion at Monument County Sheriff's Office.' There were firefighters walking around the building, having just finished fighting the fire, "Authorities believe a gas main ruptured, causing the massive explosion that ripped apart the police station and claimed the lives of everyone inside."

Sam's eyes widened as he heard the news. He glanced up at Ruby before looking at the TV. Dean and Michelle just stared at it in disbelief.

"Among the deceased, at least six police officers and staff, including Sheriff Melvin Dodd, Deputy Phil Amici…" the reporter continued, listing the casualties and their photos, "Secretary Nancy Fitzgerald, as well as three FBI agents identified as Steven Groves, Calvin Reidy, and Victor Henricksen. Two fugitives in custody were also killed. There were rumors of a third fugitive being held, but reports are unconfirmed. We'll continue to follow the story here at the scene, but for now, back to you, Jim."

"So much for being invisible," Michelle commented, trying desperately to lighten the mood, but knowing it was impossible.

Ruby walked over and shut the TV off before turning to them, waiting.

"Must've happened right after we left," Sam frowned.

"Considering the size of the blast..." Ruby tossed a small bag to Dean, Sam, and Michelle, "...smart money's on Lilith."

"Shit," Michelle shook her head.

"What's in these?" Dean asked, holding up one of the bags.

"Something that'll protect you...throw Lilith off your trail...for the time being at least," Ruby shrugged.

"Thanks…" Sam began, but Ruby cut him off.

"_Don't_ thank me, Lilith killed_ everyone_. She slaughtered your precious little virgin plus a half a dozen other people. So after your big speech about humanity and war, turns out _your_ plan was the one with the body count. Do you know how to fight a battle? You strike fast and you don't leave any survivors, so no one can go running to tell the boss. So next time, we go with _my_ plan."

With that, she turned and walked out of the room while Sam and Dean exchanged grave looks.

"In battle, there're _always_ casualties," Michelle sighed, rubbing her head, "Dad never let me forget it. Strategically, the best plan minimizes the casualties. 6 vs. 30, strategically we _did_ win," she placed her head in her hands, shaking it before she closed her eyes, "Never makes me feel better."

Dean stood up, suddenly grabbing the bag Sam had brought in, "Come on, we need to find Bela. Now."

A/N: Woo! We've got Sam/Michelle officially starting! And GhostFacers coming up next. Awesome :) I hope it didn't seem too sudden, Sam and Michelle saying that they love each other. It's been building for a while, by now it's been a few months that they've been hunting together, and those sorts of tense and extreme situations would make someone bond faster. Not to mention, they both do remember the extra six months the Trickster gave them, not that Sam knows that, so they've probably known/built up a relationship almost near a 'year' by now. But Sam will actually comment on this in the next chapter :)

As for theories about Michelle...well...we'll have to wait and see :)


	11. GhostFacers

GhostFacers

Sam and Michelle were not very happy as Dean drove the Impala to their next hunt. Their leads on Bela had dried up and they were waiting on Bobby to get back to them. So, to pass the time, Dean had taken to randomly hunting various creatures and dragging Michelle and Sam with him. Now they were headed towards the Morton House which, according to Dean, was the Grand Canyon of hunting. Apparently a ghost appeared once, every four years, on leap day, at midnight, with a number of people disappearing when it happened. They did have to admit it sounded interesting, especially from the information Sam was able to find about it on the way.

They were currently driving up to the house, 'An American Band' by Grand Funk Railroad playing on the stereo. Dean was driving, searching the grounds carefully while Sam sat in the passenger's seat with his laptop open.

Michelle was peeking out the back with her flashlight, helping Dean scout the grounds.

"Idiots," she muttered as the Impala drove off. Just when they turned the corner around the house, she'd seen a few flashlights turn on by the fence.

"What?" Dean glanced back at her, moving to park the Impala.

She shook her head, "Probably some dumb teens trying to sneak in on a dare. You know, spend the night in the haunted house."

"Great," Sam groaned, _just_ what they needed.

Dean turned off the car and got out, heading to the trunk as Michelle and Sam followed.

"Well, it's about 10:30," Michelle stated, glancing at her watch, "We better get in and get them out."

Sam and Dean nodded, grabbing a few weapons and supplies from the trunk as she did the same.

~8~

It had taken the trio about twenty minutes to actually track down the other people in the house. They'd been on the first floor, having checked out most of the level, before hearing someone running down a hallway behind them. They saw a few flashlights reflecting on the wall as the people came to a stop before turning the corner.

Dean looked meaningfully at Sam and Michelle before moving towards the corner slowly, trying to avoid making any creaking noises as he did.

"...I think it was just this branch...ok, in the window," a voice drifted over to them as they walked closer, "This is spooky, man."

"This place..." another voice remarked. Sam and Dean paused a moment, looking at each other, it seemed vaguely familiar to them.

"Ok," the other voice gulped, "Oh, no!"

Sam and Dean stepped out from around the corner with Michelle, guns drawn and aimed at two men standing in the middle of the hall.

"Freeze!" Dean shouted, "Police officers! Don't move!"

Michelle aimed her flashlight in the faces of the two men, freaking them out quite a bit, "Alright," she said calmly, "Take it easy."

"Let's see some identification," Sam demanded, "Come on, let's see some I.D."

"We are unarmed," the first man said, holding up his hands.

"What…are we under…under arrest?" the second asked.

"Oh God, oh God…"

"Want to explain that weirdo outfit, Mr. uh...Corbett?" Dean asked, squinting at the men.

One of the men paused a moment, squinting back, "Whoa, I _know_ you."

"Yeah, _sure_ you do," Michelle rolled her eyes, "Give me some identification, come on."

"Yeah, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second, I know the _both_ of you guys, yeah," he looked between Sam and Dean.

"What?" the second man looked at the first.

"Yeah, huh," he lowered his hands.

"Holy shit," Sam said, lowering his gun.

"Sam?" Michelle looked over at him as did Dean.

"What?" Dean added.

Sam glanced at his brother, "Uh, west Texas…the tulpa we had to take out, those two goofballs that almost got us killed the...hellhounds or something?"

"Fuck me," Dean grumbled, lowering his gun.

Michelle raised an eyebrow at the two before slowly lowering her gun too.

"Yeah, we're not hellhounds anymore, ok?" the man said, "It didn't test that well."

"Ed, what's going on?" the second man asked.

Ed sighed, "They're not cops, buddy…no, not at all."

"Ed…Ed, you had a partner, too, didn't you?" Dean shook his head.

"A different guy?" Sam added when Ed didn't speak.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," Ed nodded.

"Is he around here somewhere?" Michelle tried, they had no idea how many other people were in the house.

"He's running around, chasing ghosts. Doin' what we do."

"Ok, well, listen, you and Rambo need to get your girlfriends and get out of here," Dean ordered.

"And what about you and your girlfriend?" Ed countered, eyeing Michelle.

Sam glared at the man and raised a gun at him.

"Wrong brother," Michelle commented.

Ed rolled his eyes and walked over to Dean, ignoring Sam's gun trained on him, "Alright, listen here, chisel chest, ok? We were here _first_, we've already set up base camp, _we_ beat _you_."

Dean smirked and looked over at Sam and Michelle, both staring at Ed as though he were a child, "They were here first," Dean said before laughing to himself. Suddenly he turned and grabbed Ed, shoving him up against a wall.

"Oh, God!" Ed shouted.

His friend went to help him, when he heard a gun cock and turned to see Michelle with a gun on him. He stepped back, his hands up.

"Ed," Dean began slowly.

"Yeah?" the man groaned.

"Where's your partner?"

Ed just stared, wide eyed, and pointed down the hallway. Dean let him go and nudged him in the direction he'd pointed in, implying he should lead the way to his comrades.

After a few moments of walking, Dean spoke up again, "What are you doing at the Morton House, Ed? Huh? On leap year…what are you thinking?"

"We're here to spend the night, ok?" Ed defended, "It's for our TV show."

"What?" Michelle looked at him oddly.

"Great," Sam rolled his eyes, "Perfect."

"Yeah, nobody's ever spent the night before," the second man, Corbett, added.

"Uh, actually, they have," Michelle stated.

"Uh, we've never heard of them," Ed said as though he were right and they were wrong.

"Yeah, you know why?" Dean defended, "'Cause the ones that have, haven't lived to talk about it!"

"Oh, come on, I don't believe you."

Sam suddenly slammed his duffel bag down onto a table and began pulling out papers, "Look, missing-persons reports going back almost a half century. John Graham, stayed on a dare, gone. Julie Wilkerson, gone. There are tons more. All of them came to 'just stay the night,' always on a leap year. The only body they ever found was the last owner, Freeman Daggett."

Ed paused a moment, looking at the papers, spooked, before trying to be serious, "These look legit."

"They _are_ legit," Michelle stepped up to the table, holding up a paper, "Look, Ed, was it? We don't have much time here. Starting at midnight, your friends are going to die."

Just then three people ran into the room, looking frantic, one girl and two men.

"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" one of the men shouted, gasping for breath, "Guys, guys! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! We got one! Corbett! Corbett, we saw one! We _saw_ one! It was a full apparition! It was like a class four. It was a spectral illumination!"

"It was nuts!" the girl added, "It was totally amazing!"

"It..." the third man, which Sam and Dean recognized as Harry, Ed's partner, started before he noticed the three other people in the room, more specifically Sam and Dean, "Hey, aren't those the assholes from Texas?"

"Yes," Ed nodded.

"And who are you?" Harry looked over at Michelle. She rolled her eyes and just cocked her gun at him, "Ok," he held up his hands, taking a step back.

"Alright, let's have this reunion across the street, guys," Dean tried.

"Crap. What are you guys doing here?"

"Come on, come on," Dean began motioning towards the door, "We'll get you ice cream, our treat. What do you say? Let's go."

"Guys, I think we should listen," Ed began.

"Yeah, I say no, look at this, look, look," Harry cut in, "Ed, Ed."

"No, no, look at this, ok, honest-to-God proof, alright?" the girl held up a camera to show the ghost recorded on screen.

Ed's eyes widened, "Are you kidding me?"

"Yeah, no, not kidding," Harry replied.

"What kind of reading did we get?" Ed continued as the trio glanced at each other.

"Uh, it was a 10.9."

"10.9?" Ed almost shouted in excitement.

Harry nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah, it was 10.9, it was almost 11. I came out, and I was like, 'what's going on?' And I was like…"

"Hold it, oh my God, watch this part," the girl cut in, holding it up so everyone could see the ghost being shot.

"Oh! He got blasted!" Ed smirked.

"It was crazy!" Harry exclaimed.

Dean nodded his head to the side and Michelle and Sam stepped over to speak with him, unaware that the last man had followed and was taping them.

"Do you think we could be wrong about this?" Michelle looked between the two, "I mean, that was just a death echo."

"Yeah, but what's it doing here?" Dean argued, "Did anybody get shot here?"

Sam shook his head, "No, not that I could find."

"What's a death echo?" the man asked.

They glanced over at him, but turned back to their conversation, "Look, if we've got a problem here that ghost ain't it," Sam continued.

"What's a death echo?"

Michelle sighed and looked at him, "Echoes of souls that are trapped in a loop, ok? They keep replaying how they died over and over and over again, usually in the place where they were killed."

"It's about as dangerous as a scary movie," Dean added.

"So, maybe the echo's not dangerous, but maybe something _else_ is," Sam thought out loud.

"You're right, alright, we need to get out of here, guys," Dean called, "Come on, let's go, let's go, let's go, pack it up."

"What about all of our equipment?" the girl argued.

"Lots of fun, let's go."

"We got more material," Harry argued, "We got all kinds of stuff. We'll make you guys recurring guest stars."

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Ed suddenly cut in, "Where's Corbett?"

"Shit," Michelle muttered as the team quickly made its way to the door to try and find their friend, when there was a scream.

"That was Corbett!" Ed shouted.

"Corbett!" Harry called as the guys and the girl tried to run upstairs and find him.

Sam lurched forward to try and stop them, "_We'll_ get him! Go back! Guys!" but was unable to, "Shit!"

Dean sighed and shook his head, "Come on," he said, walking up the stairs, "Better go after them."

They made it up in time to hear Ed shouting down a hall, "Corbett, you need to come back, Corbett. No!"

Dean led them to a bedroom where the group was standing around, scared, trying to find their friend. They were all talking and yelling over each other.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" Dean shouted, trying to get their attention, "Come on, come on!"

"Guys?" Michelle tried, looking at her watch, 11:58.

Sam ran into the room, "Hey, Corbett's...he's not here. Let's go, let's go, let's go back."

"No, that was Corbett," Harry argued, "Didn't you hear that?"

"Go, go, go, come on! Guys, guys, guys."

"Guys?!" Michelle tried again, 11:59.

"Here we go, here we go," Dean tried, pushing the team towards the stairs and down the hallway, "Keep it moving, keep it moving."

The cameraman tried to stay behind but Sam noticed and went to get him, "Hey, hey, hey, watch him, watch him."

"Guys!" Michelle shouted, but to no avail, 12:00.

"Go, go, move, move," Dean shouted at the camera, "Turn it off!" he reached over and put his hand on the camera, dragging the man out there and back to the base.

Ed was standing by the surveillance table, "Oh, God, what's happened? Oh, God, he's gone, he just disappeared."

"Ok, let's just go through all the angles," Harry breathed, "Let's go through all the cameras we have."

Sam and Dean were standing at the front entryway, staring at the now sealed door.

"I tried to tell you," Michelle said from behind them, sitting on the stairs, "It's 12:04."

Sam groaned and turned to glare at his brother, "You good Dean? You happy?"

"Yeah, I am happy," he replied sarcastically.

"'Let's go hunt the Morton house,' you said, 'It's our Grand Canyon…'"

"Sam, I don't want to hear it."

"You got two months left, Dean!" Sam shouted, getting frustrated, "Instead, we're gonna die tonight," he picked up a chair and slammed it against the front door, smashing it.

"Hey, hey," Michelle stood up and walked over to Sam's side. She grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face her and put her hands on either side of his face, "Sam, look at me. _No one_ else is going to die here, not tonight," she stroked a thumb against his cheek, "Ok? Calm down. We'll get out of this."

Sam visibly relaxed. Even after all their time together it still shocked the boys at how calm Michelle could make them feel with just a touch or a look. They were thankful for that, they probably would have had a heart attack or killed each other by now if it hadn't been for her.

"What the hell is going on?" the cameraman asked as the group ran into the room to see the broken chair.

Michelle sighed and turned to face them, "Every door, every window, I'm guessing every possible exit out of this house, are all sealed."

"But why are they sealed?" the girl looked at the door.

"It's a supernatural lockdown, ok?" Dean explained, "Whatever took Corbett doesn't want us to leave, and it's no death echo. This is a bad mother, and it wants us scared."

"Or it just wants us."

"Uh, guys, the camera's fritzing again," the cameraman called.

"Whoa, whoa, guys, the EMF's starting to spike," Ed added, "This is a big one."

"Everybody, stay close, there's something coming," Sam ordered, grabbing Michelle's hand and stepping closer to Dean.

"Oh whoa!" the cameraman called, drawing all their attention back to the base, where another ghost appeared.

"Whoa!" Ed agreed.

"Whoa!" Harry seconded that.

"Is this the same echo you guys saw earlier?" Michelle asked, eyeing the ghost.

"No, it's a different guy," the cameraman replied.

"_Multiple_ echoes?" Dean raised an eyebrow, "What the hell's going on?"

Sam shrugged, "Beats me."

"Ok, alright, alright, alright," Dean quickly walked up to the echo and got in its face, "Uh, hey, buddy! Hey, hey, wake up, you're dead! Hello!"

"What's he doing?" Harry asked, watching him, "What's he doing?"

"Sometimes you can shock an echo out of its loop if you can talk to the part of the ghost that's still human," Michelle replied.

Sam nodded, "It's rare, usually you have to have some kind of connection to the deceased."

"Come on!" Dean continued, "Wake up! Be dead! Hey! Hey!"

There was as distant sound of a horn blowing.

"You guys hear that?" Harry turned to look around.

"What's that sound?" Ed mimicked his friend's actions.

"You guys hear that?"

"What _is_ that?" Sam spun around.

"Snap out of it, buddy, huh?" Dean continued, "Come on, what are you waiting for? You're gonzo! You're dead! Hey!"

Michelle strode forward, pulling Dean back and reached out as though she were about to touch the ghost, her hand resting around his shoulder, her plan was to treat it like a human and maybe it would connect to that aspect of its life again, "Hey!" she shouted. The group gasped as the ghost actually turned to face her, it seemed it was working, "You're dead!"

Just before she could get another word out, the death echo was hit by a ghost train, dragged away, and disappeared.

"Oh!" the cameraman followed the image on the camera.

"Whoa!" Sam was more focused on Michelle than the ghost.

"Where the hell did it go?" Ed asked.

Dean whistled, "You think that worked?"

Michelle could only shrug.

~8~

They were walking through the house with the group, the GhostFacers, the girl of them, whom they learned was called Maggie, holding a camera on Sam, Dean, and Michelle as the trio talked.

"Dude, there's no records of any of this here," Dean said, "No one got shot here. Obviously, no one got run over by a freaking train."

"Stay close," Sam called over his shoulder.

"Did the echoes take Corbett?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, no, I don't know," Dean sighed, "We don't know what's doing what here, that's what we're trying to figure out, ok?"

"Alright, stay close," Sam said again.

"Death echoes are ghosts," Michelle tried to explain and calm the girl down, "Ghosts usually haunt places where they lived or where they died."

"Except these mooks _didn't_ live _or_ die here," Dean added.

"Right," Sam agreed.

"So, what are they doing here?" Maggie shook her head, not really understanding.

"Hey, give the lady a cigar," Dean looked over his shoulder to see the camera still on him and frowned, "Alright, seriously, does looking at this nightmare through that camera make you feel better or something? I mean..."

"Um..." Maggie stuttered, "I…" she tried to put the camera down, only to bring it back up, "Uh...well, yeah. Uh, yeah. I think so."

"Oh," Dean rolled his eyes at her.

They walked into a room and started to look through the drawers. Sam pulled a framed certificate off the wall and read it, "Freeman Daggett, house's last owner, officially commended for 20 years of fine service at the Gamble General Hospital."

"He's a doctor?" Michelle looked over at him.

"Janitor."

"This looks like his den," Dean sighed, "When'd you say he died…64?"

"Yeah, heart attack."

"What are these?" Maggie picked a bag up, "C-rations?"

"Yeah, army-issued, three squares…like a lifetime supply," Dean commented.

"God, is that _all _he ate?" Maggie nearly gagged.

"One-stop shopping," Dean commented, continuing to search till he came to a cabinet with a lock on it, "Hello, locked."

"Oh, come on, guys, this is ridiculous," Ed rolled his eyes, "I mean, how the hell is this supposed to find Corbett, huh? We should be digging up the friggin' floorboards right now."

Michelle rummaged through some papers on a desk and pulled one up, "'Survival Under Atomic Attack,'" she read, "Well someone was an optimist."

Dean let out a victory whoop as he managed to get the cabinet open. He pulled out the box that was in there and turned around, only to have Ed standing before him, holding the EMF reader up to him. Dean gave him a frustrated look and set the box down on the desk. He opened it and quickly began going through its contents, discarding some things and pausing at some others.

"Crap...crap...taxidermy?" Dean held up one paper, "Ok, you said Daggett was a hospital janitor?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"Ew," Dean grimaced, "Got three toe tags here," he picked them up and tossed them down after a moment, "One death by gunshot, train accident, and suicide."

"Ew," Sam grimaced as well.

"What?" Ed looked at them, confused.

"Well, that explains why all the death echoes are _here_."

Harry and Ed still looked confused.

"They're here because their bodies are here, somewhere in the house," Michelle explained.

"Daggett brought the remains home from the morgue...to play," Dean added.

Harry and Ed remained confused for a few more moments before they both realized what was being said, "Ewwww…" they groaned.

"That's nasty, dude," Spruce, the cameraman, stuck out his tongue.

Dean looked up and around the room, frowning, something was off.

Michelle noticed his look and searched around as well, "Where's Maggie?"

Dean rolled his eyes and motioned for them to stay as he walked out of the room in search of the missing woman.

He had been gone no more than five minutes before he returned with Maggie following him.

The little reunion was short lived as Ed called out, "Harry...Harry! I got an 8.6 and climbing fast. Something huge is coming. Look, something big is coming."

Harry leaned over to look at the EMF, "It's past 11, you guys."

"What?" Michelle's eyes widened at that.

"Nobody move!" Dean shouted, "Hold on, hold on, stay calm."

There was a flash and suddenly Sam was gone.

"Whoa…" Harry began.

"Sam?" Michelle looked around, drawing Dean's attention to the fact his brother was missing.

"Some kind of surge," Ed shrugged.

"Sam?" Dean called, stepping over to Michelle who had been closest to Sam when he vanished.

"Where'd he go?" Spruce asked.

"Oh, no," Maggie gasped.

Dean reached down to find Sam's flashlight on the floor. He looked up at Michelle, both their eyes wide as they turned, "Sam!"

They quickly walked from the room, Harry, Ed, Maggie, and Spruce going with them in search of Sam and Corbett.

"Sam!" Michelle shouted.

"Sammy!" Dean called.

"Corbett!" Harry and Spruce yelled.

"Talk to us!" Spruce added, "Corbett!"

"Sammy!" Dean continued.

"Ok," Michelle said, "We need to split up. It'll be easier to look. Me and Dean this way," she pointed behind her, "Harry and Maggie, that way," she pointed to her left, "And Ed and Spruce, over there," she pointed to her right, "Just _this _floor. Check the room and meet back here."

The group nodded and broke apart. Dean and Michelle walked into a back room that looked like the living room. One quick scan of the room was all they needed to know Sam wasn't there.

Dean groaned and slammed his fist on a table next to him.

"Don't worry Dean," Michelle said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, "We'll find him."

Dean opened his mouth to reply, when they heard a crash and shouts from another room. They ran out to see Spruce standing in a doorway, videotaping something. They pushed him out of the way and saw Ed and Harry duking it out on the floor.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dean shouted, trying to break up the catfight.

When it didn't seem to be working, Michelle took drastic measures.

A shot rang out and the duo broke apart to see Michelle standing there with a gun raised in the air, "What _the hell_ are you _doing_?" she shouted, glaring at them, "Cut it out! _Now_!"

"We're down by two people," Dean added, getting up and shaking his head in disgust, "Find anything?" the team could only shake their head before Dean stormed out of the room followed by Michelle, "Sam!" he shouted.

"Sammy!" Michelle added.

~8~

It didn't take long for Dean and Michelle to grow frustrated, and a touch worried, at not having found Sam. Dean strode through the house and back to the room with the box he'd found. He slammed it open again, rifling through it with Michelle standing at his side.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Ok, so Daggett was a Cold War nut, ok?" Dean replied, more to himself than the others, "He was…he was an amateur taxidermist. He liked to slow dance with cadavers, and all he ate were c-rations. So what the hell are we looking for?"

"Horrible little life," Maggie remarked.

"Yeah, a lonely life..."

"A Cold War life…" Michelle commented in thought, before realization flashed across her face, "He was scared!" she turned and quickly walked away, Dean following behind as he trusted she had thought of something he had not.

"Scared of what?" Harry asked, following, "What?"

"What?" Spruce repeated.

"Where are you going?" Harry groaned.

"Wait, don't leave me in here, you guys!" Maggie called.

They all followed Michelle as she ran down the stairs to the basement.

"Where are you going?" Maggie continued.

"My dad told me about a lot of wars, about the Cold War and men like Daggett, the ones who were _really_ scared of the Russians," Michelle explained, reaching the bottom of the stairs, "They built _bomb shelters_, I'm guessing he's got one, I'll bet you it's in the basement," she looked back up at the group, only to see the door to the basement slam shut, cutting her, Dean, and Spruce off from Maggie, Harry, and Ed.

"Whoa!" Ed and Harry shouted.

"That is _not_ funny!" Ed banged on the door.

"Um, who closed the door?" Spruce turned to them.

Michelle sighed, "It did. It wants to separate us."

Ed tried to open the door but it was sealed.

Dean stepped back and yelled through it, "Ed! Listen to me!"

"What?" Ed replied.

"There's some salt in my duffle. Make a circle and get inside."

"Inside your duffle bag?"

Dean rolled his eyes as Michelle face palmed, "In the _salt_!" she shouted to them.

"Oh, ok, yeah, yeah," Ed remarked. They could hear their footsteps fading as they stood in the basement.

Michelle nodded and turned to investigate the room. Dean came down to join her while Spruce continued to film, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"What?" Dean looked back at him.

"Earlier, you and Sam...he said you had two months left?"

"Yeah, it's complicated," he answered distractedly, "A while ago, Sam..."

Michelle cleared her throat, shaking him out of his thoughts.

He looked over at Spruce and realized what he was about to say, "No, no, no. I'm not gonna whine about my freaking problems to some freaking reality show. I'm gonna do my job."

"Is it cancer?" Spruce asked after a moment.

"It's none of your business," Michelle threw over her shoulder, pressing her ear to the wall where she could faintly hear music being played, "You hear that?"

Dean and Spruce made their way over to her, trying to remain silent till they heard the music.

"Is that music?" Spruce asked, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "And it's coming from behind this wall," he stood up and motioned for Michelle to step back as he went to move a cabinet blocking the wall.

"Wow, you're strong," Spruce commented.

Dean just flipped him off.

The cabinet revealed a small pathway behind it, the music louder and a faint light reaching them. Michelle cocked her gun and stormed down the hall, Dean behind her, followed by Spruce.

"…you'll stay a good, long time," they heard someone say when they burst into a room at the end of the tunnel.

"Sam!" Dean called as Michelle shot the spectral form of Daggett with rock salt, forcing him to disappear.

There were a number of other corpses sitting at the same table Sam was tied to, with party hats on their heads and party horns in their mouths with big creepy smiles on their faces. There was even a birthday cake and plates set up.

"Oh, no, Corbett," Spruce muttered when they saw the body of the missing team member sitting at the table too.

Dean stepped forward and cut the ropes binding his brother to the chair, allowing him up as Michelle kept a lookout around the room, gun at the ready, in case the ghost returned.

"Come on," Dean muttered, leading them out of the room.

"So, what's this Daggett guy's problem anyway?" Spruce asked as they reached the basement again.

"Loneliness," Michelle commented.

"He's never heard of a Real-doll?" Dean scoffed.

"No, no, no, Daggett was the Norman Bates, stuff-your-mother kind of lonely," Sam shook his head, "I mean, that's why he lifted these bodies from the morgue, threw himself a birthday party, except they were the only ones who would come. Anyway, so, at midnight, he sealed them in the bomb shelter and went upstairs and O.D.'d on horse tranqs."

Dean paused and looked at his brother, "How do you know this?"

Sam shrugged, "'Cause he told me."

Dean shook his head, "Oh, yeah. Ok, so now that he's dead, what? Same song, different verse, trying to get people to come to his party?"

"Pretty much. Yeah, stay forever."

"Are those real bullets?" Spruce asked, watching Michelle reload her shotgun.

"It's rock salt," she remarked, cocking the gun and nodding to Dean that she was ready.

He nodded and made his way up the stairs to try and open the basement door, without much success.

"Seriously, you're _still_ shooting?" Sam asked Spruce as he noticed the boy still holding the camera.

"It makes him feel better," Dean shrugged, "Don't ask."

"Ah, hell, guys getting your ghost-roll thing, something's coming," he said as the camera started to static, "Oh, my…"

Spruce was then thrown to the ground as Daggett appeared, Michelle quickly shot him with the rock salt and readied to aim again, it wouldn't take long for angry Daggett to reappear.

Sam glanced over at Spruce, "Take it easy. You alright?"

"Uh, guys..." Spruce pointed.

They turned around to see Daggett behind them. He threw Dean into a corner while Sam tried to get his attention while Michelle aimed, "Hey! Hey! Come here!"

Michelle fired and Daggett disappeared.

"This is bad," Spruce remarked when Daggett appeared again, "Very bad."

Before Michelle could even turn, Corbett's ghost appeared and rushed at Daggett, wrapping his arms around him and disappearing in a flash of light.

Dean and Sam moved to get up, staring at the spot where the ghosts had disappeared.

"You alright, dude?" Spruce looked at Dean with the camera before turning to Sam, "You alright?" then he turned to Michelle, "You alright? Oh, my God."

Dean and Sam both put their hands up to block the camera for a moment before heading up the stairs, knowing that the door would be open now.

~8~

Everyone was coming out of the house together and walked over to their cars, packing up and ready to leave.

"Leap year, February 29th, the Morton house," Ed's voice could be heard, "A tragic day, a day of souls bound in torment, of lives held in cruel balance. But the GhostFacers, they did the best that they could."

Harry and Maggie walked out last, pausing on the porch and hugging each other, as Dean and Ed made their way down the stairs, followed by Sam with his arm around Michelle.

"We lost a beloved friend," Harry's voice spoke, "But we gained new allies."

Sam walked over to Ed and handed him a piece of paper with their phone numbers on it before walking over to the Impala, where Dean and Michelle were waiting for him.

"We know this much, that every day, including today, is a new beginning," Ed's voice finished.

Suddenly Harry and Ed were sitting in front of a fireplace, in armchairs, in a lavish room, talking directly into the camera, "We learned more than we can say in the brutal feat of the Morton House," Ed said.

"The GhostFacers were forced to face something far more scary than ghosts," Harry stated seriously, "They were forced to face themselves."

"War changes man."

"And Maggie."

"War changes man...and one woman," Ed corrected, "You know, Corbett, we just...oh, gosh, we just like to think that you're out there, watching over us."

Harry nodded, "As far as we're concerned, you're not an intern anymore. You have more than earned full GhostFacer status. Plus, it'd be cool to have a ghost on the team."

"Yeah, yeah. And here we were, thinking that, you know, we were teaching you, and all this time, you were teaching us...about heart, about dedication, and...and, about how gay love," he cleared his throat, recalling how Corbett had a crush on him, "Can pierce through the veil of death and save the day. Thank you, Alan J. Corbett."

"Go well into that starry night, young Turk, go well..."

And the image froze.

Sam, Dean, and Michelle sat, stunned, in front of a computer monitor, watching the entire hunt on film in an episode the GhostFacers had made as a pilot.

"So, guys, what do you think?" Ed asked, watching over their shoulders, "You alright?"

"You know, I kind of think it was half-awesome," Dean remarked.

"Half-awesome, that's full-on good, right?" Maggie smiled hopefully.

"I…guess…" Michelle said slowly, turning to face the team while Dean put his hand into a duffle bag and pulled it out, covering the opening.

"I mean, it's bizarre how y'all are able to…to honor Corbett's memory while grossly exploiting the manner of his death, well done," Sam commented.

"Yeah, that's a real tight rope you guys are walking," Dean added.

"Yeah, alright, guys," Sam nodded, getting up with Dean and Michelle and walking towards the doors.

"No, that's _reality_, man," Ed called to them. They turned to face him, "Yeah, Corbett gave his life searching for the truth, and it is our job over here to share it with the world."

"Right…" Michelle drawled, looking at them as though they were crazy.

"In our experience," Sam continued, "You know what you get when you show the world the truth?"

"A straightjacket or a punch in the face, sometimes both," Dean answered for them.

"Oh, come on, guys, don't be 'Facer haters because we happen to have gotten the footage of the century," Harry said smugly.

"Oh, yeah," Ed grinned and nodded.

"You got us there," Michelle rolled her eyes.

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"Yeah, well, we'll see you guys around," Dean called, turning to leave with his brother and Michelle, ignoring the names they were sure to be called as soon as the door closed behind them.

They walked quickly over to the Impala, barely able to keep the grins off their faces, "We clean?" Sam looked over at his brother.

"NOOOOOO!" a cry could be heard from inside the GhostFacers' HQ, "No, this can't be happening! Are you kidding me? No!"

Michelle got into the car followed by Sam and Dean.

"Electromagnet wiped out every tape and hard drive they have," Dean remarked, glancing back at Michelle, "Where'd you get one of those, by the way?"

She smiled, shrugging, "You would not _believe_ the things my dad made me pack when we went hunting."

Dean just laughed at that and pulled away from the house.

"I guess the world just isn't ready for the GhostFacers," Sam commented.

"That's too bad, I kind of liked the show," Dean smirked.

"It had its moments," Michelle agreed.

~8~

They had been driving for a while now, changing seats every few hours, until it was dark and Dean was driving, Sam and Michelle in the backseat. He glanced in the rearview mirror to see that it looked like Michelle had fallen asleep on Sam's shoulder. His brother was sitting with his arm around the girl, looking at her, deep in thought.

"What's up Sammy?" Dean called quietly from the front, "I know that look, you've got something on your mind. Care to share?"

Sam considered denying what was plaguing his thoughts, but thought it would be pointless as Dean could read him like a book. He sighed and looked at his brother through the mirror, "Do you think it's crazy?"

Dean's brow furrowed, "Gonna have to be a bit more specific than that Sam."

"I mean," he let out a breath, "Do you think it's crazy, me and Michelle?"

"What about you?"

"How fast this is all going? I mean, in Stanford, it took me two _years_ to get to know Jess before I was comfortable saying I_ liked_ her, to work up living together. Isn't it crazy that it took so long with her but not with Michelle?"

Dean stared at his brother though the mirror, looking at Michelle then back to Sam, "You think you're moving too fast?"

"I don't know," Sam shook his head, "I feel like we're not moving fast enough sometimes, like I just want to be with her as much as I can, and every time I'm not with her, its time I'm wasting," he looked at Dean, "Is that weird?"

"I think that's love," Dean remarked, thinking of how he felt about Lisa. It was exactly the same, "You want my honest opinion on this?" he asked after a minute. Sam nodded, "I think what you had with Jess was a cover up."

"It…"

Dean held up his hand to stop his brother's arguments, "It was real, but I think with her you were trying too hard to _get _something and not _letting_ it happen. Like…you wanted a normal life so bad that you went about doing things normal people do. Find a pretty girl, fall in love, get together. So I think, with _her_, it was all about getting the normalcy back. But with Michelle…" he shook his head, smiling a bit, "She knows everything. She's so far beyond normal, that it's almost normal. Normal for us is different than normal for normal people."

"Dean that makes absolutely no sense," Sam laughed.

"Think about it. Jess knew nothing about hunting, right?" Sam nodded reluctantly, "Michelle does. Michelle knows practically everything about us, not just whatever you sugar coated to seem normal. There're no secrets between the two of you. And you're both sharing experiences you'd never have had with Jess. You're bonding."

"But…it's _more_ than that," Sam stressed, "I feel like, it's _always_ been Michelle. Like I've always wanted her, before I even met her."

"You've probably had her in the back of your mind since we met her when we were little."

"We knew her when we were little? When?"

"According to Bobby, he and dad went to work on an infestation of Willow the Wisps with her parents, left us in their house with Michelle. Bobby said you took to her like he'd never seen you take to anyone before. Maybe, in the back of your mind, you remember that connection and now you're renewing it, making it stronger."

It was silent for a moment, "You think?" Sam asked.

Dean looked through the mirror to see Sam looking at Michelle again, "Whatever it is Sammy, just be grateful she feels the same way and just as strongly as you do."

Sam just nodded at that, brushing a strand of hair out of Michelle's face, smiling lightly as she snuggled into his shoulder.

A/N: Lol, I sort of wanted Michelle to slap either Ed or Harry, but I feel like she'd rather just shoot them if they annoyed her :) And awww, Dean actually talked about feelings! I could totally see him having a 'chick-flick' moment and talking about emotions and love if it meant helping his brother. He's just a big softy on the inside :)


	12. Long-Distance Call

Long-Distance Call

Dean was sitting on a bench in the town's square when Sam and Michelle walked up to him. He was on the phone, _eating_, shocking really, "Yeah. I've got it. Ok. Bye," he flipped the phone closed and picked up the can next to him, tossing one to Sam and then another to Michelle before standing up, "So?"

"So, the professor doesn't know crap," Sam sighed.

"Shocking," Dean deadpanned.

"Yeah," Michelle agreed.

"Pack your panties, Sammy, Mickey," Dean grinned at her annoyed expression, brushing past them, wincing when Michelle punched him in the arm, "We're hitting the road."

Sam and Michelle turned around, "What?" Sam called, "What's up?"

Dean stopped and turned to face them, "That was Bobby. Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio, they think there's a spirit involved."

"So you two were talking a case?" Sam eyed him

Dean rolled his eyes and took a few steps back, "No, we were actually talking about our feelings," he said sarcastically, "And then our favorite boy bands…yeah, we were talking a case."

Michelle shook her head, "So a spirit?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, well, banker was complaining about some electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phones going haywire, computers flipping on and off. Eh?"

"Uh huh…" Sam said slowly, hesitating.

"This is not ringing your bell?"

"Well...sure, yeah. But Dean, we're _on _a case."

"Whose?" Dean looked confused.

"Yours," Michelle reminded him.

"Right, yeah," he nodded, "Coulda fooled me," he started to walk towards the car again, but Sam didn't move.

"What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?" Sam called.

Dean turned around to face his brother, a look of frustration growing on his face. Michelle dropped her head, this was not going to be pretty. Both brothers were slowly growing more aggravated as it drew nearer to Dean's contract date.

"Chasing our tail, that's what," Dean nearly shouted, "We've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two bit carnie act in the lower 48 and nobody knows squat. And we can't find Bela. We can't find the Colt. So until we actually find _something_, I'd like to do my job."

"Well, there's one thing we haven't tried yet," Sam began slowly.

"No Sam…"

"Dean."

"No…"

"We should summon Ruby."

"I'm not gonna have this fight with you."

"She says she knows how to save you."

"Well, she can't."

"Oh really? You know that for sure?"

"I do."

"How?"

"Because she told me, ok?!"

Sam's expression morphed into one of confusion and sadness. Michelle, who had been watching the exchange like a tennis match, stepped closer to the boy and took his hand.

"What?" he said quietly.

"She told me, flat out, that she could _not_ save me," Dean stated, "Nobody can."

"That's not true," Michelle interrupted, not liking the heartbroken expression on Sam's face or the tears in his eyes, "We'll find a way."

"And you just somehow neglected to mention this to me?" Sam asked his brother.

"Well, you know, I really don't care what that bitch thinks, and neither should you," Dean remarked, walking away again.

"So what?" Sam scoffed, "Now _you're_ keeping secrets from _me_, Dean?"

Dean's shoulders tensed as he faced his brother again, looking none too happy, "You _really_ wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?"

Sam stared at his brother a moment before walking past him, semi-forcing Michelle to walk with him as he had yet to let go of her hand.

"Now where are you going?" Dean called.

Sam looked over his shoulder, but still kept walking, "Guess I'm going to Ohio."

He continued on towards the Impala, throwing away his can while Dean watched for a moment before following.

~8~

They stood in the Water's residence in Milan, Ohio, interviewing Mrs. Waters, the wife of the banker who took his own life.

"I found him..." she walked into another room, motioning forward for Dean, Sam, and Michelle to follow, "There."

"Why don't you just tell us everything you saw, Mrs. Waters," Dean said professionally as they stopped in the middle of the room.

"You mean besides my dead husband?"

"Just...everything else you saw, please," Michelle repeated gently.

Mrs. Waters sighed and turned to look around the room, "There was ah...blood, everywhere. The phone was ripped from the wall, his favorite scotch on the desk…what else could you possibly wanna know?"

"Why was the phone ripped from the wall?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know."

Sam glanced at the phone, "You mind if I take a look?"

The woman shook her head, turning back to Dean and Michelle while Sam walked off, "I already went over all this with the other detectives."

"We'll be out of your hair in no time, ma'am," Michelle promised.

She and Dean walked towards the other part of the room where Mrs. Waters indicated he'd died, to just look at the scene for anything out of ordinary.

"Ma'am, what time did your husband die?" Sam called, drawing their attention.

"Sometime after eleven," Mrs. Waters replied.

Sam subtly tapped the caller ID, letting them know he found something.

Dean nodded, turning to Mrs. Waters, "How about strange phone calls? Receive any of those lately? Weird interference, static, anything like that?"

"No," she shook her head. Dean just raised an eyebrow so she replied more forcefully, "No!"

"Mrs. Waters, withholding information from the police is a capital offense…" Dean began but Michelle cleared her throat, giving him a look. He held back his desire to roll his eyes as he was in full view of Mrs. Waters, "In some parts of the world, I'm sure."

"A couple of weeks ago, uh, there was this..." Mrs. Waters trailed after a moment.

"This…what?" Michelle asked.

"I woke up one morning, I heard Ben in his study. I thought he was talking to a woman."

"What made you think that?" Sam stood and walked over to them.

"Because he kept calling her 'Linda.' The things is...I picked up the other line and...nobody was there. Ben was talking to nobody."

"There was nothing?" Michelle confirmed, her eyes narrowing a bit in thought.

Mrs. Waters nodded, "Just static."

"Did you ever speak to Ben about this phone call?" Sam continued.

"No," she shook her head, growing more upset, "I should've, but no."

"Did he ever say who Linda was?" Dean attempted to get more information.

"What difference does it make?" she yelled, "There was no one on the other end!"

~8~

Back in the motel, Dean was sitting by the laptop, numerous windows open as he tried to find Linda, and seemed to have succeeded. Sam was lying on the bed, his head resting on Michelle's lap while she sat against the headboard reading a book.

"Linda's a babe…or was," Dean commented.

Sam glanced over at his brother, "Find her?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah, Linda Bateman," he leaned forward and read from the information, "She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts."

"So what happened?" Michelle asked, glancing up from her book.

"A drunk driver hit 'em head on. Ben walked away."

"So, what then?" Sam shook his head, making Michelle giggle a bit from the sensation, she reached down and began running her fingers through Sam's hair, "Dead flame calls to chat?"

"You would think, but Linda was cremated," Dean shook his head, "So why is she still floatin' around?" he stood up and went to lay on his own bed.

"Uh...you got me," Sam said, distracted by Michelle's fingers and the small hum she gave.

"How about that uh caller I.D.?" Dean looked over, smirking at the sight.

"It's a phone number," Michelle commented, she had checked it out on the laptop on the way to the motel.

"It's no phone number I've ever seen."

"Yeah, because it's about a century old. From back when phones had cranks."

"So why use that number to reach out and touch someone?"

"You got me there too," Sam replied, his words starting to slur. They looked down to see his eyes were closed and he was probably half-asleep, "But, either way we should run a trace on it."

"Well, how the hell are we gonna trace a number that is over a hundred years old?" Dean rolled over to face them.

~8~

"We don't get many folks from HQ down here," Clark, the one in charge of the town's local phone company, said.

"Yes, well, the main office mentioned that there would be a lunch?" Dean smiled charmingly.

"Well, I'm sure we can arrange something," Clark agreed, leading them down a hall. Sam frowned as a fly flew around him, "The man you gentlemen wanna be speaking to is right this…" he trailed when he saw Sam try to swat the fly away, "I know...sorry. Got something of a hygiene issue down here, if you ask me."

They started walking again and entered a room with numerous machines set up, a man sitting at a computer, the central for the phone lines, "Stewie!" Clark shouted.

The man jumped and turned around to see his superior standing behind him. There were tons of flies buzzing around and food and other garbage lying around the entire work station.

Michelle grimaced at the filth.

Stewie swiftly turned around and began clicking his mouse like crazy, shutting down as many windows as he could.

"Stewie!" Clark yelled, gesturing around the room, "What did I tell you about keeping this place clean?"

Stewie was too busy closing windows of porn advertisements to really respond to that, "Spam mail…spam mail..."

"Stewie Meyers," Clark began, motioning to Sam, "Mr. Campbell," he pointed to Michelle, standing on the other side of Sam, "Miss Tapert," and then gestured to Dean, "Mr. Raimi."

"I don't know how this all got here," Stewie remarked, still trying to close his windows.

Clark leaned over and flicked him on the back of his head, finally getting his attention, "From headquarters," Stewie froze and turned around slowly, looking very nervous, "You give these folks whatever they need."

As Clark turned to leave the room, Dean and Sam called their thanks to him.

"So...can I help you?" Stewie asked.

Dean turned around to look at Stewie, motioning to the screen now that Clark was gone, "Is that uh…"

Stewie's eyes widened, "No!" just then a woman on the screen made a noise that had Stewie spinning around and quickly clicking the site way. His shoulders slumped, he'd been caught, "Maybe."

"Word to the wise," Dean smirked, "Platinum membership, worth _every_ penny. Huh?"

Michelle rolled her eyes at the man as Sam cleared his throat, "Right. Anyway…" he pulled out a note and handed it to Stewie, "We're here to trace a number."

"Where did you get this?" Stewie eyed the paper.

"Off caller I.D.."

Stewie shook his head, "Oh no, that's impossible."

"It hasn't been used in a few years," Michelle commented, "We know."

"A_ few_ years? It's prehistoric. Trust me _nobody _is using this number anymore."

"Sure," Sam nodded understandingly, "Could you run it anyway?"

"Sure," Stewie rolled his eyes, "Why don't I just rearrange my whole life first."

"Listen, uh, Stewie," Dean walked forward and leaned down, not looking pleased, "You've got like six kinds of employee code violations down here, not to mention this sickening porn clogging up your hard drive," Stewie cleared his throat, "When my partner says 'run the number,' I suggest you run the number."

Stewie looked at Sam, who was giving him the same hard look Dean was, and then to Michelle, who was just disgusted. He quickly turned back to the computer and ran the number. Dean took a few steps back, looking at Sam and Michelle with a big satisfied smile on his face. A few minutes later Stewie turned around with a list of about ten numbers all that were called by the one on the paper.

"Holy crap," Stewie murmured.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I can't tell you where the number's come from," Stewie remarked, printing out the list, "But I _can_ tell you where it's been going."

"What do you mean?" Michelle leaned forward, trying to see the list.

"Ten different houses in the part two weeks," Stewie commented, handing the list to Sam, "All got calls from the same number," Dean walked over to Sam's side, "So...are we done here? 'Cause I was sorta busy."

Dean smiled, "Right…"

Michelle shook her head and started to walk away with Sam while Dean just quickly pointed at Stewie and followed.

~8~

Michelle pulled up to a very nice house, pleased to be driving the silver car she had rented for her and Sam. Sam had tried to take the keys but she had just reminded him she had yet to drive the Impala, so she got _this_ car. He had no argument for that and had to concede.

Sam double checked the address on the list Stewie had given them and nodded. They got out of the car and walked up to the house, knocking on it.

The front door opened to reveal a man and his son standing before them, "Yeah?" the man asked.

"Hello, sir," Michelle greeted, smiling, "We're with the phone company."

"We didn't, uh, call the phone company."

"Oh, no, sir," Sam agreed, "No, see, _we're_ calling _you_. We've had a lot of complaints from the neighborhood lately."

"Complaints?" the man shook his head.

"Yes, sir, uh, dropped calls, static, maybe even strange voices on the other end of the line?" Michelle continued.

A young woman walked into the room at that moment and stared at the two of them, shock on her face, something that didn't go unnoticed by Michelle.

"No, we haven't had any of that here," the man replied.

"Nothing?" Sam confirmed.

"No," he shook his head.

"Ok, thank you sir," Michelle finished, "Just thought we'd check."

Sam looked at her, about to question why she was giving in so easily, when he noticed her glance at the young woman. He looked at her as well, seeing her looking spooked.

"No problem," the man nodded, turning away, "Ok, let's go. Come on, Simon."

He bagan to close the door on them, but they both remained in the doorway for a moment longer, narrowed eyes focused on the girl. But, unable to do anything, they began to walk back to the car.

"No way you work for the phone company," the woman replied, appearing behind them as they neared the car.

"Sure we do," Sam turned and grinned.

She raised an eyebrow, "Since when do phone guys drive a rental or wear cheap suits?"

Michelle had to shake her head at the girl's keen eye, "Well, maybe we're_ both_ keeping secrets."

The girl's eyes narrowed, "Why did you ask my dad if we heard strange voices on the phone?"

"Why?" Sam eyed her, "Did you hear something?"

"No."

"My mistake," Sam said, shrugging, "Thought maybe you did."

"Well, I didn't, ok?"

"Ok," Sam replied, holding up his hands in surrender, "Sorry to bother you."

She looked down for a moment, still spooked and more than a little sad. Michelle glanced at Sam who nodded, giving her the go-ahead to do her thing.

"Because, you know..." Michelle said softly, taking a small step towards the young woman, "If you _did_, then I would have told you that I've been right where you're standing right now. Hearing things, even seeing things that couldn't be explained. Maybe I would have been able to help out a little bit. Anyways..."

Michelle moved to get in the car when the girl stepped forward, "Hey, wait," Michelle looked up at her, "Maybe...maybe I've been talking on the phone, with...with my mom."

"Well, that's not so strange," Sam began.

"She's dead, isn't she?" Michelle cut in.

The girl nodded, "Like three years now."

"How often does she call you?" Sam frowned.

"A few times, it started a week ago. I thought I was, like, crazy or something."

"Well, I can tell you one thing for sure, and you're gonna have to go with me on this, ok?" Michelle smiled, "You're _not_ crazy."

The girl laughed a bit, looking relieved that someone believed her. Michelle smiled warmly at her, handing her a card to call them, and got into the car with Sam.

Suddenly Sam's phone rang, it was Dean. Apparently another person in town had been getting calls from a dead loved one, an old woman whose husband died in Korea.

~8~

"I mean…dad?" Sam asked, sitting on the motel bed, looking up at Dean, confused, "You _really_ think it was _dad_?"

He and Michelle were watching Dean pace back and forth around the room, looking spooked like the girl had been, apaprently he'd gotten a phone call to, "I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, what did he sound like?" Sam asked cautiously, knowing the subject of their father was touchy.

"Like Oprah," he said sarcastically, "It was dad. He sounded like dad. What do you think?"

"You watch _Oprah_?" Michelle cut in, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not really the main point."

Sam sighed, "What did he say?"

"My name."

"That's it?" Michelle raised an eyebrow. She already had a few theories on what this thing could be but, so far, nothing solid.

"Yeah, the call dropped out."

"Why would he even call in the first place, Dean?" Sam continued.

"I don't know, man," Dean spun to face his brother, "Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But, I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones. Why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?"

"Yeah…I guess."

"Ok, so what if..." Dean sat down on the bed, facing Sam, looking both thoughtful and nervous, "What if it really_ is_ dad? What happens if he calls back?"

"What do you mean?" Michelle looked up.

"What do I _say_?"

"Hello?" Sam replied after a moment.

"Hello?" Dean repeated. Sam just shrugged and nodded, "_That's_ what you come back with? 'Hello?'" he suddenly got up and grabbed his jacket, opening the door.

"I wouldn't say anything," Michelle called out, causing him to pause a moment, "Whatever it is, it isn't your dad, be sure of that. It's using his voice to get to you."

Dean just looked at them and shook his head before leaving.

Sam sighed and looked over at Michelle, "You know what this is?"

"I'm working on it," she answered.

~8~

A few hours later, Sam was sitting at his laptop, searching for any information he could find, while Michelle was reading a book.

Dean opened the door and walked in, "Find anything?" he asked them.

"After three hours, I have found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here," Sam sighed as Michelle shook her head.

"Wow, you know, you'd think a Stanford education and a high school hookup rate of 0.0 would produce better results than that."

"Hilarious," Sam deadpanned.

"Sammy, Mickey..."

"Don't call me that!" Michelle grumbled.

He smirked, "You're just looking in the wrong places."

"And what are the right places, Dean?" Michelle asked as Sam went back to his research.

"The motel pamphlet rack," he threw down a pamphlet in front of Sam. Michelle got up from the bed and leaned over Sam's shoulder to look at the pamphlet with him, "'Milan, Ohio, Birthplace of Thomas Edison.'"

"Yeah, right," Sam looked up, "So what?"

"Keep reading," Dean nodded down to the pamphlet.

Sam looked back at it, a wry smile coming to his face, "You're kidding."

Dean just smiled back at them, looking far too pleased with himself that he might have potentially figured it out before them.

~8~

"And we're walking, and here we have one of the museum's most unique and treasured possessions, Thomas Edison's 'spirit phone,'" the perky tour guide spoke, using her fingers as quotes as she led a group of tourist into a room in the Edison museum. Michelle, Dean, and Sam looked at the old communication device skeptically, "Did you know that Mr. Edison, while being one of America's most beloved inventors, was also a devout 'occultist?' Ooh…ooh."

"What's with the quotey fingers?" Dean leaned back to whisper to them.

"He spent years working on this, his final invention, which he was convinced could be used to 'communicate' with the 'dead.' Pretty spooky, huh? And we're walking…" she moved away from the spirit phone, taking the tour group with her, "We are walking, we're walking. And we are not touching that. And we are walking."

Sam and Dean stepped up to the spirit phone while Michelle stood before them, keeping an eye out for any other tour guides spotting them.

"Anything?" Dean asked as Sam scanned it with the EMF.

"Nothing," he replied.

"What do you think?" Dean looked over at Michelle.

"It kind of looks like an old pile of junk to me," she commented, glancing back at it

"It's not even plugged in."

"Maybe it doesn't work like that?" Sam tried to reason.

"Ok," Dean thought a moment, "Maybe it's like a radio tower, you know, _broadcasting_ the dead all over town."

"Could be."

"Well, you know, the caller I.D.'s 100 years old, right? Right around the time this thing was built."

"Yeah, but why would it all of a sudden start working _now_?" Michelle argued.

"I don't know. But as long as the moldy are calling the freshies around here, it's the best reason we got."

"Yeah, maybe," Sam nodded.

"So maybe it really is dad," Dean finished, looking up at Sam, a hopeful expression on his face that just broke Michelle's heart, because she knew full well, it wasn't and that Dean wouldn't believe her.

~8~

Back in the motel room that night, Sam was sleeping, Michelle curled to his side while Dean sat at a table, dressed, with a coffee in his hand, staring at his phone.

It rang and he quickly stood up and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Michelle's eyes opened as she slowly sat up, careful to not wake Sam, and stared at the door. She could hear Dean speaking in hushed voices with the thing on the phone. She couldn't exactly hear what was being said, but she could tell that Dean was getting more and more worked up and upset as the conversation went on.

She was about to get up and go to the door to stop it, when her own phone rang. She looked over at it, seeing SHA33, the number calling everyone, flashing on the I.D. and picked up.

"Mitchie?" a woman said on the other end.

She snapped the phone shut, an angry expression on her face, when the phone rang again, this time from the girl they'd met earlier.

~8~

Dean was on the laptop in the motel room when Sam and Michelle came walking in.

"What's up?" he asked them.

"That girl, Lanie, her mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night," Michelle answered, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"That sucks."

"Yeah, it does," Sam agreed, eyeing his bother actually looking like he was doing research, "What are you doing?"

"I think dad's right," Dean got up and moved away from the computer, holding out some papers for Sam to see, "I think the demon is here. Check it out."

Sam looked at the papers and then up at his brother, "What is this, weather reports?"

"Omens, _demonic_ omens. Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks."

"I don't remember any lightning storms…"

"Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology as a kid, either. But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me, wearing some poor dude's meat."

"And it's following you because..."

"I guess I'm big game, you know?" Dean grinned, "My ass is too sweet to let out of sight."

"Ok…sure…"

"Don't get too excited, Sammy," Dean glared, walking over to rip the papers from his hands, "You might pull something."

"Dean, look, I _want_ to believe this, man. I really do…"

"Then believe it! I mean, if we get this sucker, its Miller time."

"Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon, I mean, not just send it back to Hell, but_ kill_ it?"

"I checked it out," Dean walked back to the table and picked up a paper with the exorcism on it as well as his research. Michelle was looking between the two, clearly they had had a conversation when she hadn't been present, she had no idea about this exorcism but Sam didn't seem surprised. He handed it to Sam, "This is heavy-duty Dark Ages, fifteenth century."

"Yeah, I checked on it too, Dean," Sam said, putting it on the table. Michelle stood up and went to look at it as well, "And so did Bobby."

"Ok," Dean shook his head, "And?"

"Look, it definitely is an exorcism, ok? There's just no evidence that it can kill a demon."

"No evidence it can't."

"Oh, Dean, come on, man…"

"Hey, as far as I know, the only one of us that's actually been to Hell is dad, ok? Think maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work?"

"It'll kill a demon alright," Michelle spoke up, reading it once again, "It'll definitely do that."

"You read Latin?" Sam asked, staring at her, she'd just read about a paragraph in the span of a minute.

"Training," she muttered distractedly.

"There," Dean grinned, "You see, even Michelle agrees with me."

"I'm not saying I agree with you," Michelle cut in, "I don't think the demon's here either."

"And why not?"

"What were his exact words?"

"Something like…the demon who holds your contract, he's here...now."

"And neither of you caught that?" she eyed them.

"Caught what?" Sam looked at her.

"The demon who holds your contract?" she looked at them, "You _really_ don't know?" she sighed, "If what I know about demons is correct, most contracts are held by powerful demons, for protection, like the first few ever created. And the first few are _women_," the boys stared at her, "While he was in Hell, he'd have _known_ that. He wouldn't just say HE is here, he'd say SHE."

Dean shook his head, "That is the biggest load of crap I've ever heard."

"Excuse me?" she glared at him.

"You're making it up so we'll believe that it's not the demon," Dean glared at her in return.

Sam looked at Michelle, "Maybe it is a woman, ok? Maybe it's not, look, but the point is we aren't sure. And that should be enough of a reason to wait."

"Why aren't we sure?" Dean looked at him as though he should believe their father's words over Michelle's, "Because you love her? You believe _her_ more than your own _father_?"

"Because I don't know what's going on around here, Dean!" Sam shouted, getting frustrated, "I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits…"

"Wow, man!" Dean got in his brother's face, "A couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, Sam people are _supposed_ to be freaked out by ghosts!"

"Did your dad tell you where to find the demon?" Michelle stepped in, pushing the brothers apart.

Dean whipped out his phone and held it up, "I'm waiting on the call!"

"Let me see it," she held up her hand. Dean hesitated a moment before handing it over.

She fiddled with the phone while Sam tried to calm down, "I told Lanie we'd stop by," Sam said.

"Oh, good, yeah," Dean glared at him, "No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen," Sam raised his arms and shook his head, a questioning look on his face, "Meanwhile, I'll be here, you know, getting ready to _save my life_," he quickly took a few steps towards his brother, "You are unbelievable, you know that? I mean, for _months_ we've been trying to break this demon deal. Now dad's about to give us the freakin' _address_, and you can't _accept_ it?"

"It's not your father!" Michelle shouted over him. Dean turned and glared at her but she held up the phone, "Look, _this_ is the number that's been calling everyone," she showed him the SHA33 on the caller I.D.. She then held up her own phone and showed them the same number on her caller I.D. listed twice, "I got it too. The first time all they said was 'Mitchie.' That's the name my mom called me, the _only _one who called me that," she then tossed the phone to Sam, "Put it on speaker and play the voicemail. The second time I didn't pick up."

Sam hesitated before he hit the voicemail, "What do you hear?" she asked after a moment of it playing.

"Static?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed as he tried to hear something, Dean nodded.

"Same number, but why isn't your dad speaking? My mom's speaking. She keeps asking me why I won't pick up, why I won't talk to her."

"And?" Dean looked at her, wondering why she's telling them this.

"And," she continued, "The point is, it's _not_ a real person speaking. You're dad is_ dead_, my parents are _dead_. Dead as in not coming back! Whatever the fuck is calling, it's _not_ your dad and it's _not_ my mom. They are trying to lure you…" she drifted off a moment, her eyes widening in realization. She then smacked her palm to her face and shook her head, "How did I not figure this out before?"

"Figure what out?" Sam looked at her questioningly, along with Dean.

"It's a crocotta. It's a creature that lures people to their death."

Sam looked at her now as though he were unsure, "A crocotta lures its victims by whispering 'come to me.'"

"Dad said he wanted me to go somewhere," Dean added, "Not come to him."

Michelle looked between the two, glaring at them, "When this is all over, and you two realize what dicks you are, I am going to tell you 'I told you so,' like I have every other time I was right and you were wrong. Should we count them up?"

She didn't even give them time to respond as she stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her. Sam flinched as did Dean, overall, she _had_ been right way more than they were.

"We got no hard proof here, Dean," Sam said after a moment, "And I don't want to see you get killed running blind faith so please, just _please_, don't go anywhere until I get back, ok, Dean? Please."

Dean watched as Sam walked out the door and after Michelle, both of them going to check on Lanie.

~8~

"Have you told your father about any of this?" Michelle asked Lanie, sitting next to the girl on her bed, her hand on the girl's back.

"And bother him at work?" she shook her head, "No. He wouldn't believe me anyway. He'd just chuck me into therapy."

"So what did your mother say?" Michelle continued, half-looking for confirmation that she was right.

"That she wanted to see me. So, at first, I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery."

"Did you?" Sam asked.

Lanie nodded, "Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do other things."

Sam glanced at Michelle a moment before focusing back on Lanie, "What sort of things?"

"Bad things," was all Lanie said before she started shaking, very upset.

"Lanie, please," Sam knelt before the girl as Michelle began to rub circles on the young woman's back, "Tell us what happened. It's very important."

"Mom told me to go to dad's medicine cabinet," she replied, breathing heavily.

"And?"

"Take his sleeping pills, take_ all_ his sleeping pills!" she choked, speaking through tears.

"She wanted you to kill yourself?" Michelle confirmed.

Lanie put her hands on her face and nodded, "Why would my mom want me to do that?"

"I don't know," Sam said, eyeing Michelle.

"I mean, just so I could come to her?"

Michelle and Sam froze, looking down at the girl, "What'd you say?" Michelle asked, her thoughts confirmed, it was a crocotta.

"She wanted me to come to her."

"No, no, no, no, no," Sam's eyes widened as he realized Michelle might be right, "How did she say it _exactly_?"

"Come to me. Like, a million times."

Sam looked at Michelle who gave him a hard look. Sam sighed she had been right, again.

"Lanie, that's _not_ your mother," Michelle said, shaking the girl just a bit to get her to look up.

"What?" Lanie looked up.

"Alright, listen to me," Sam instructed, getting up and leading the girl into the hallway, "Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless I say to, alright?"

"Lanie?" Michelle called, seeing her staring at a room and not moving to follow Sam down the stairs.

"Where's Simon?" she turned to face them.

Michelle's eyes widened at the same time as Sam's and they raced down the rest of the stairs, calling out for Simon.

"Simon!" Sam called, looking in the kitchen while Michelle took the living room.

"Simon!" Michelle shouted, looking around. She was about to turn to look at the next room, when she saw something out the window, "Sam!" she yelled behind her as she ran out of the house and towards the street, where Simon was walking across traffic.

"Shit!" she could hear Sam curse and Lanie yell as she ran towards the boy.

She managed to dodge one car that came way too close for comfort before reaching the boy and pushing him to the grass divider with her on top of him, just before a truck almost hit them. She looked up to see the boy shaken and the truck driving away. She quickly picked him up and, carefully, crossed back to the house, depositing him in his sister's arms.

"We need to go," she said to Sam, rushing off towards the car.

"Remember what I said!" Sam called to the siblings over his shoulder and following Michelle.

She strapped on her seatbelt before gunning it down the driveway and out onto the street, speeding and swerving around cars as she did so.

"Dean, it's not dad," she looked over to see Sam on the phone, "A crocotta," he confirmed, "Some kind of scavenger, mimics loved ones, whispers 'come to me,' and lures you into the dark and swallows your soul," he sighed, "Dean, look. I'm sorry, man. I know…" Sam paused a moment as Dean spoke, "Yeah."

She glanced over to see Sam's eyes widen in realization. He turned to her and mouthed 'flies.' But instead of her eyes widening as his did, they narrowed. She reached over and grabbed the phone, listening a moment before glaring.

"You listen to me you piece of shit," she spat into the phone, "You stop what you're doing right now or I'm going to hunt you down and cut out your entrails, you understand me?"

She flipped the phone shut and sped off towards the phone company, "What the hell was that?" Sam asked, eyeing her.

"I heard nothing, no Dean, nothing but static," she explained, "It was the crocotta."

Sam let out a breath at how easily he'd almost been duped, "So, why are we still headed towards the phone company?"

"My guess is it wants to lure us there. Might as well see why. At least we'll be prepared."

~8~

"Oh, shit," Michelle said, suddenly coming to a screeching halt outside the phone company.

"What?" Sam asked, still clutching his seatbelt in fear. And he thought Dean was a dangerous driver.

"Dean," she turned to face him.

"Shit," he said, realizing his brother was probably walking into a trap just like he almost had.

"I'll try and get in touch with him," Michelle pulled out her phone, "You see if the crocotta is here."

Sam nodded and got out of the car, walking down a back alley through a mist of fog.

"Dean?" Michelle said when the phone picked up.

"What's up Little Miss Mickey?" Dean responded.

Her jaw tensed at the nickname, but now was not the time, "Where are you? Please tell me still in the hotel room."

"Ok, I'm in the hotel room," she could _hear_ the smirk in his voice.

"Yeah, I doubt that. Look, we've confirmed it, it's a crocotta, it tried to take Lanie and her brother and now it's after me and Sam."

Dean was silent a moment, "You sure?"

She sighed, "I'm sorry it wasn't your dad, Dean, but wherever you are, you need to get out of there."

"The demon isn't here," Dean said quietly.

"No," she shook her head even though he couldn't see her, "But we _will_ find a way to save you Dean, I promise."

Dean sighed, "Yeah, ok."

"Just...get out of there, ok?" she bit her lip, getting nervous. Sam was only supposed to check if the crocotta was there…but he still wasn't back yet.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean replied, hanging up.

Michelle waited a minute or two longer for any sign of Sam, but when nothing arose, she quickly opened the glove compartment and pulled out two guns, slipping one in the back of her pants and holding the other one as she went off in search of Sam.

She walked around the building, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, except for the fact that the lights were all off yet all employee cars were still there. Stewie didn't strike her as the type to work overtime so she crept up to his car. She looked around quickly, seeing a small dark puddle on the ground where just a hint of blood was left.

She stood up and saw that the door to the company was open just a crack. She grabbed a small flashlight from her pocket, holding it under her wrist as she held her gun up, and walked into the building. She made quick work of checking all the rooms on the first floor until she found a door to the basement and voices drifting up from it.

"Just let him go," she heard Sam shout at someone.

"I would, I really would," a voice she recognized as Clark's respond. Well, now she knew the crocotta was still there, "If only I'd had more than a salad for lunch. See...I'm starving."

"No!" Sam shouted.

Michelle flinched at the sound of someone else grunting as Clark must have killed him. She slowly crept down the stairs, putting the light away, peering around to see Clark ingesting Stewie's soul, Sam sitting tied to a chair.

She waved a little, getting Sam's attention. He nodded a bit, turning to Clark, "My last call with Dean...that was you. You led me here," he had to draw Clark's attention away from the stairs so that Michelle could get down there.

"Some calls I make, some calls I take," Clark shrugged, turning to face Sam, "But you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap…" he chuckled, "Your little girlfriend's quite the firecracker though, sharp too. Saw right through my little calls."

Sam struggled at the mention of Michelle. Michelle hesitated at the mention of her, not sure if it was Clark just speaking or if he knew she was there.

But Clark just leaned back to a switchboard and put his hand on it, lighting it up.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked as Michelle resumed her creeping.

"I'm killing your brother," Clark smirked, "Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes."

Sam squirmed in his chair, glancing at Michelle, who shook her head and gave him a reassuring smile. He breathed out a bit in relief, she'd managed to contact Dean and warn him.

Clark didn't seem to notice the exchange as he took the knife out of Stewie's chest, splattering blood at the same time. Michelle grimaced at that as Sam continued to speak, "You know, mimicking Dean's one thing. But my dad, Michelle's mom, that's a hell of a trick."

"Well, once I made you three as Hunters, it was easy," Clark shrugged, pushing Stewie away, the chair rolling over the grate and towards the stairs. Michelle jumped back, thankfully her thud at hitting the wall occurred at the same time that Stewie hit the stairs so Clark didn't notice, "Found Dean's number, then your number, then your father's numbers, then Michelle's number and her mom's. Then to e-mails, voicemails...everything," he stepped forward, leaning down and pointing the knife at Sam, "You see, people think that that stuff just gets erased. But it doesn't. You'd be surprised at how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked."

Sam glanced at Michelle to see her now at the bottom of the stairs, "Dean's not gonna fall for this. He's not gonna kill that guy."

"Then the guy kills him," Clark shrugged, approaching him once more, "Technology..." he ran the knife along the side of Sam's head, before moving behind him. Michelle just barely had time to sidestep out of sight, "...makes life so much easier. It used to be I'd…I'd hide in the woods for days, _weeks_, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night. But they had community. They all looked out after each other."

Michelle peeked out from the box she'd gotten behind and saw Clark leaning closer to Sam, "I'd be lucky to eat maybe one, two souls a year. But now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call. You're all so connected...but you've never been so alone."

He opened his mouth, baring teeth at Sam, raising his knife to stab him, when he was suddenly tackled and thrown to the side by Michelle. Clark was so shocked that he dropped the knife, the sound of it clattering to the floor as Sam struggled to get out of the ropes and help. Michelle reached for the knife but Clark managed to free himself and throw her back, grabbing the knife and charging at her.

Michelle lifted a foot and kicked Clark in the chest, shoving him back and against Stewie's computer desk. She lunged at him, grabbing his arm and bashing it against the side of the computer, managing to knock it out of his grip. But he shoved her off him and got up, trying to punch and kick her, strike her anywhere he could. But Michelle would have none of that. Her training paid off and she was able to dodge everything Clark tried to dish her. She managed to grab Clark's arm and twist it behind him, shoving him forward to be impaled on a metal tool holder hanging on the wall. Blood splattered out the back and front of his head, spraying a bit on Michelle's face and clothes, her breathing heavily from exertion.

When she was sure Clark was dead, she turned around and grabbed the knife Clark had dropped to cut Sam free.

"You ok?" he asked, standing up and trying to see if she had been injured while trying to wipe the blood away.

She nodded, grimacing as she wiped some blood as well, "You might have to drive though…I'll have to work on not getting any blood on the rent-a-car."

"I have no problem with that," Sam replied as she just laughed.

~8~

They entered the motel room to see Dean pressing a towel to his forehead, cleaning off some blood and groaning in pain. He looked up at them through the mirror before smirking at Sam, "I see they improved your face."

Sam reached up to brush against the tender spot where Clark had smacked him, "Yeah, right back at you."

Michelle shook her head, "Guess you didn't get out in enough time?"

He shook his head, glancing at his beaten and bloody face in the mirror before turning around to face them. He went past them and sat down on his bed, "So, crocotta, huh?"

"Yep," Sam nodded.

"That would explain the flies."

"Yeah, it would."

Michelle cleared her throat and they both looked at her, "I told you so," she smiled, sitting down on her bed and motioning for Sam to sit next to her.

"Hey, um...look," Sam said softly, sitting down next to Michelle, "I'm sorry it wasn't dad."

"I gave you a hell of a time on this one," Dean admitted, looking from Sam, to Michelle for a moment, and back to Sam.

"Ah..." Sam tried to wave it off.

"No, you were right. You _both_ were."

"Forget about it," Michelle smiled at him.

"I can't," he shook his head, "I wanted to believe _so badly_ that there was a way out of this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing...you know, Hell, for real, forever, and I'm just..."

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

Dean sighed, "I'm _scared_, Sam. I'm _really_ scared."

"I know," Sam swallowed as Michelle took his hand.

"I guess I was willing to believe anything, you know, last act of a desperate man," Dean tried to laugh, but they both knew better.

"There's nothing wrong with having hope, you know," Michelle said after a moment.

"Hope doesn't get you jack squat. I can't expect dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, you know? And the only person that can get me out of this thing is me."

"And me," Sam said after a moment, swallowing hard to hide his emotions. Michelle could see the tears shining in Sam's eyes as he listened to his brother lose all hope.

"And me?" Dean looked at him.

"Me too," Michelle added, getting up to sit next to Dean, "And honestly, between the two of us, I think we have a pretty good shot don't you?" she looked at Dean who looked between her and Sam.

He smiled, "Yeah," he nodded, "I do."

"Good, you better," Michelle got up and walked over to the mini-fridge, grabbing two beers and an iced tea. She tossed one to Dean and another to Sam, taking the tea for herself.

Dean shook his head and turned on the TV. Sam smiled at this and laid back on the bed, Michelle laying next to him as they just watched a random show into the night.

A/N: I love hurricanes. I got the day off work, which I used to catch up on some fanfiction work, before the power went out that is. But still, I managed to catch up on things I'd had to put aside for school, so I'm a happy girl. Here's hoping that I get today off too because of the flooding!


	13. Time Is On My Side

Time Is On My Side

They had spent the last three weeks searching for any and all leads on Bela. But every time they got close to finding her, she'd slip away. Trying to balance that with the finding the demon who held Dean's contract was twice as hard.

They were currently standing in a room with a black man possessed by a demon, tied to a chair in front of the fireplace.

"Argh…stop!" the demon shouted as Dean splashed him with holy water.

"You ready to talk?" Dean demanded.

"Argh! I don't know. I don't know anything."

"Oh, you hear that Sam?" he turned to his brother, sarcastic, "He doesn't know anything."

"Yeah, I heard," Sam replied.

"I'm telling you the _truth_," the demon insisted.

"Oh, you are?" Dean laughed emptily, "My God, then I owe you an apology. Allow me to make it up to you," he grabbed the demon by the face and started to pour the holy water down its throat, ignoring the screams, "I'm gonna ask you one last time. Who holds my contract?"

The demon glared up at Dean before his expression softened and he laughed, "Your mother. Yeah, she uh, showed it to me right before I bent her over..."

Dean leaned forward and grabbed the demon, staring at him menacingly, "I want a _name_. Or else..."

"Or _what_?" the demon shook his head, "Hmm? You gonna squirt your holy water in both ends?"

Michelle stepped forward and held up a syringe, dipping it into the holy water and filling it up, holding it in front of the demon.

He looked actually scared for a moment before trying to play it off, "Please. That's like a flea bite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket."

Dean and Sam exchanged an angry look before Sam began to exorcize the demon.

"How does that feel?" Dean asked as the demon grunted and cracked its neck, "Does that feel good?"

"Go ahead," the demon goaded, "Send me back to Hell. Because when you get there, I'll be waiting for you, with a few pals who are _dying_ for a nice little 'meet and greet' with Dean Winchester."

"Should I?" Sam asked as the demon laughed evilly.

"Send him some place he can't hurt anyone else," Dean sighed.

Sam continued the exorcism while Dean turned away, dejected. Michelle walked over to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder while the demon grunted and groaned.

Unfortunately for the group, the demon decided that, if it was going down, it was taking its host with him. They were unable to save the man he'd possessed.

~8~

"You ran the prints twice?" Michelle heard Sam ask over the phone, "You're sure?" he paused to hear the response, "Ok. Yeah, just chalk it up to lab error. Ha ha, don't I know it. Ok, thanks. Yeah, I'll tell the lieutenant," Michelle looked up to see Dean enter just as Sam finished the call.

"You bury the body?" she asked.

"Yeah, poor schmuck," Dean sighed, "It's like these demons ride 'em hard, just for kicks," he opened a bottle of beer and looked over at his brother, "Uh, what's the phone call about?"

"Remember that thing in the paper yesterday?" Sam asked them, noticing Michelle was curious as well.

"Stripper suffocates dude with thighs?"

"The _other_ thing," Sam half-glared at his brother.

"The guy that walked into the E.R. and kneeled over dead with his stomach ripped out?" Michelle guessed.

"His liver, actually. Anyways, I just found out something pretty damn interesting."

"What?" Dean took a swig.

"The dead body? Covered in bloody fingerprints. _Not_ the victim's."

"Ok, great, my man Dave Caruso'll be stoked to hear it," Dean remarked dryly.

"Those fingerprints match a guy who died in 1981."

"Really? So, what are we talking? Uh, walking dead? Walking, killing dead?"

"Maybe."

"Yeah, zombies do like the other, 'other white meat.' Huh. Mmm. Speaking of, what do you care about zombies?"

"What do you mean?" Sam looked up.

"I think he's talking about how we've been focused on finding who's holding his contract," Michelle answered, "And now we're looking at zombies?"

Sam shrugged, "Regardless of us looking for the contract, Dean's always so gung-ho to hunt. I just thought I'd be doing him a favor, finding the next one."

"No, no, no, no," Dean cut in, "I didn't say I didn't want to do it, ok? I mean, obviously, I wanna hunt some zombies."

"Ok, fine. Whatever."

Dean nodded back and walked off towards the Impala.

Sam smiled, pleased about something.

"Sam?" Michelle asked quietly, seeing his look.

He just turned the smile on her, getting up to go after Dean, "Nothing,"

Michelle hesitated a moment before she walked off to the car, frowning. The last day or so Sam had been making calls and looking up things on the computer and not telling them about it. She was sure she was the only one who noticed, Dean being a bit preoccupied with the contract. She was a little worried, she trusted Sam, but…she just wished he'd share it with her.

~8~

They were standing in the morgue, the coroner standing before them, "Yup, the rest of the body was intact. The liver was the only organ missing."

"Now, where the liver was ripped out, did you happen to notice any uh, teeth marks?" Dean questioned.

"Can I see your badges?" the coroner demanded, believing them to be phonies, which, in fact, they _were_, but _he_ would never know that.

"Of course, sure," Sam said as he, Dean, and Michelle reached into their pockets and produced their fake police I.D.s.

"Fine, so you're cops…and morons," the coroner rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me?" Michelle asked, a bit offended, even though she knew that particular comment wasn't directed at her.

"No, no, we're…we're very smart," Dean remarked.

Michelle would have face palmed if she could, way to prove a point Dean.

"The liver was not ripped out," the coroner shook his head, moving over to the fridge to show them the body of the victim, "It was removed. Surgically. By someone who knew their way around a scalpel. Didn't you read my report?"

"Of course we did…" Michelle began.

"Oh, it was uh, it was _riveting_," Dean cut in, "It's a real page turner. Just _delightful_."

Michelle was _inches_ away from smacking him on the back of the head.

"You done?" the coroner looked unimpressed.

"I think so," Dean shrugged.

"Please go away."

"Ok," Dean nodded.

"Sure," Sam agreed.

Michelle rolled her eyes at them, "Thank you very much for your time sir," she nodded at the coroner before following the brothers out.

"What?" Dean asked when he noticed Michelle glaring at him.

"Nothing," she ground out.

Sam just shook his head at her and put an arm around her waist, making her smile a little, "So that kind of punches a hole in our zombie theory huh, that scalpel thing?"

"Yeah, zombie with skills," Dean remarked, "Dr. Quinn, medicine zombie."

They both laughed at that and even Michelle had to let out a chuckle.

"Maybe we're on the wrong track Dean, looking for hacked up corpses," Sam commented.

"What should we be looking for?" Dean glanced at his brother.

"Survivors," Sam shrugged, "This isn't zombie lunch. This is organ theft."

~8~

Sam, Michelle, and Dean stood before a man lying in a hospital bed, dressed in their suits, trying to get some sort of identifying information out of the man, "I told the cops all of this yesterday," the man remarked, "I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

"We just have a couple of questions sir," Michelle said reassuringly.

"Hey, look, I just got my kidney stolen. I'm tired."

"We'll be out of here quick," Dean promised, "Don't you wanna get the guy?"

"Will it get me back my kidney?"

"Sir, what's the last thing you remember?" Sam ignored the man and went right to the questioning.

"Feeding my meter," the man sighed, "I'm jumped from behind and then I wake up, strapped to a table. And then the worst pain you could possibly imagine, only worse. And then I black out again, thank God. And then I wake up screaming in some no-tell motel in a bathtub full of ice."

"Al la 'Urban Legends' huh?" Michelle commented quietly, earning a look from Sam and Dean.

"Do you remember anything about the surgery, you know, what the guy looked like, any details about the room?" Dean continued.

"Now let me think about that," the man replied sarcastically, "Yeah. One thing is coming back to me. You know what I remember? Getting my kidney cut out of my body."

Sam sighed and glanced at his brother, motioning towards the door, they'd get no more out of this guy. As they went to leave Sam leaned over to Michelle, "Urban Legends?"

"Training wasn't just stories from other countries," was all she said.

~8~

Back in the motel room that night, the trio were sitting around the room, each doing their own thing. Michelle was sitting on the bed, a book open in her lap, hunched over, reading it. Dean was sitting at a table across from Sam, unwrapping a hamburger to eat, while Sam was on his computer, looking at a medical site focusing on suturing in the year 1813.

"So I got a theory," Sam said after a moment.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, mouthful of burger, while Michelle looked up.

"Yeah, I talked to Mr. Giggles' doctor. Turns out his incisions were sewn up with _silk_."

"That's weird," Dean swallowed.

"Yeah, _nowadays_ it is, but silk used to be the suture of choice back in the early 19th century," Sam commented, swinging his computer around for Dean to see. Michelle got off the bed and went to stand next to the eldest brother and read from the screen, "It was really problematic. Patients would get massive infections. The death rate was insane."

"Good times," Dean grimaced.

"Right. So doctors, they had to do whatever they could to keep infections from spreading. One way was maggots."

Dean looked disgusted and pointed to his burger, "Dude, I'm eating."

"It actually works," Michelle stated, "Maggots eat bad tissue and leave good tissue."

Sam nodded, "And get this, when they found our guy, his body cavity was stuffed full of maggots."

"Dudes!" Dean nearly shouted, "I'm _eating_!"

"Don't call me dude," Michelle said.

Dean just shook his head at her, "Alright, let me get this straight. So people are getting ganked…"

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

"Right, a little 'Antiques Roadshow' surgery, some uh, some organ theft," Dean paused a moment, "Why is this all sounding familiar?"

"Because you heard it before," Sam told him, Michelle raised an eyebrow, "When you were a kid. From dad," he opened their father's hunting journal and put it in front of Dean. Michelle nodded to herself, so _that's_ what he'd been looking at all this time, "Doc Benton. Real-life doctor. Lived in New Hampshire, brilliant and obsessed with alchemy. Especially how to live forever. So in 1816 Doc abandons his practice..."

"Right, yeah, nobody hears from him in like, 20 years," Dean nodded, remembering, "And all of a sudden people start showing up dead."

"Dead, or…or…or missing an organ, or a hand, or some other kind of part," Sam agreed as Michelle listened intently.

"'Cause whatever he was doing was actually working. He just kept on ticking. Parts would wear out, he'd replace them. I thought dad hunted him down and took his heart out?"

Michelle let out a low whistle at that, "I guess he must have plugged in a new one."

Dean pushed the journal away and went back to his burger, "Alright, where's he doin' the deed?"

Sam pulled the journal towards him, "According to this, Benton's picky about where he sets up his lab. He likes dense forest with access to a river or stream or some kind of fresh water."

"Why?" Michelle asked.

"Because that's where he likes to dump the bile and intestines and fecal matter," Sam answered, laughing as he looked at his brother, "Lost your appetite yet?"

Dean looked like he was actually about to throw up but the glanced at Sam then back at his food, "Oh baby, I can't stay mad at you," he took a big bite, Michelle just rolling her eyes at him.

~8~

The next morning Sam was showing Dean and Michelle a map with a few red circles around various points of interest.

"So these are all old hunting cabins," Sam explained, pointing to one, "They've mostly been abandoned for years."

"Then what the hell are we waiting for?" Dean remarked, when his phone rang. He stood up and went to answer it while Sam and Michelle continued to narrow down which cabin might be the best location for the doctor.

"Bobby?" they heard Dean say. They looked up for a moment, but Dean glanced at them and walked off a little bit. Sam sighed and turned back to the map.

Moments later Dean returned, snapping his phone shut, "Come on, we're going after Bela."

"What?" Sam looked up as Michelle stepped off to the side to grab her coat, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second."

"Come on, get your stuff, the clock's ticking."

"Look, look, I think we should stay here and finish the case."

Michelle eyed him oddly while Dean laughed sarcastically, "Are you insane?"

"Dean there's no way she still has the Colt," Sam argued, "That was _months_ ago. She probably sold it the second she got it."

"Well then I'll kill her. Win-win."

"Dean…"

"Sam, we're _going_."

"No," Sam replied, holding his ground.

Michelle's eyes widened as she looked back and forth between the brothers.

"Why the hell not?" Dean demanded.

"Dean this...this here, now. _This_ is what's gonna save you."

"What? Chasing some Frankenstein?"

"Chasing _immortality_. Look Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you."

"What are you talking about?" Dean hesitated a moment.

"You have to die before you go to Hell, right?" Sam replied, gesturing wildly, "So if you can never die…"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait a second. Did…did you _know_ this was Doc Benton from the jump?"

"No," Sam answered, a bit too quickly, "Look, I was _hoping_…"

"So the whole zombie thing, it was _lying_ to me?" Dean was starting to get frustrated now.

"I didn't wanna say anything till I was sure Dean. All I'm trying to do is find an answer here."

"No, what your trying to do is…is to chase Slicey McHacky here, and to kill him?" Dean scoffed, "No, you wanna buy him a freakin' beer. You wanna _study_ him."

Sam sighed, "I was just trying to help."

"You're _not_ helping. You forget that if I welch on this deal, _you_ _die_. Guess what, living forever is welching."

"Fine, then whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too."

"Oh, what is this…Sid and Nancy? No. it's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon that holds the contract and this whole damn thing wipes clean. _That's_ our best shot."

"Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who you gonna shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket."

"Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?"

"I'm staying here."

"No, you're not," Dean glared at him, "'Cause I'm not going to let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ-stealing freak."

"You're not going to _let _me?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"No, I'm _not_ gonna let you."

Sam crossed his arms, "How are you gonna stop me?" Dean could only stare at his brother in bewilderment, Michelle could see he clearly didn't think Sam wouldn't go along with him, "Look man, we're trying to do the same thing here."

"I know," Dean replied after a moment, "But I'm going. So if you wanna stay…stay."

Sam nodded and the boys turned to Michelle.

"What?" she asked, glancing between the two.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, "Staying or going?"

She bit her lip, he was basically asking her to choose between the two of them. Her boyfriend or her pseudo-brother-who-was-almost-on-death's-doorway-and-looking-for-an-out. She just kept looking between the two, her gaze landing on Sam for just a moment longer before bowing her head and sighing.

She walked up to Sam, pulling a knife out of nowhere and a card from her back pocket, "Bela's given us the slip too often," she said quietly, unable to really look Sam in the eye, "Dean might need more help dealing with her…I'm sorry."

Sam smiled gently and lifted her chin to look at him, "It's ok. I kinda want someone to watch out for Dean if I can't."

She smiled as well, holding out the knife and card, "Here, my card to get a rental," she put it in his hand, "And my knife, so I know you're safe."

"Thanks," he slipped them into his pocket.

"_Promise me_ you're only going to _look_ for this guy," she said suddenly, a feeling of unease growing in the pit of her stomach, "And not try and _contact_ him?"

Sam hesitated a moment, before nodding. She smiled wider, stepping up and pecking his lips before pulling her coat on and walking out the door. Dean picked up his bag and moved to follow her out.

"Keep her safe Dean," Sam called.

Dean turned around to look at his brother, nodding his promise, "Be careful Sammy."

"You too," Sam replied, watching as Dean walked out the door and shut it behind him.

~8~

They had been driving for a while, though Dean still refused to let Michelle drive the Impala, something about Sam thinking she was a stunt car driver in another life. She had no problems with that, she just kept to herself mostly, reading a book or two, taking notes in her journal, talking with Dean about some different songs that played, and discussing what they should do when they encountered Bobby's friend, the one who had the information on where they might find Bela.

They pulled up to a rundown-looking house with a sign taped to the door that said 'No Solicitors. That means you! No asking for donations. No selling anything.' Michelle found herself laughing at that last part, before Dean rang the doorbell…and then proceeded to bang loudly on the door. A soft whirring sound reached them as they looked up to see a security camera settle on them.

There were a static sound for a moment as a voice spoke to them over the intercom, "What?"

"Hi, uh, uh, Rufus?" Dean began.

"Yeah, even if I _am_, the question is still the same. What?"

"Ah, I'm Dean Winchester and this is Michelle…" Dean had a confused look on his face before turning to Michelle, just now realizing that he didn't know her last name.

Michelle shook her head at him, "I'm Michelle Davidson. We're friends of Bobby Singer."

"So?" Rufus asked.

"You called him this morning," Dean tried.

"So?"

"Ah, hmm, you told Bobby about a British chick making contact with you…"

"Yeah. And so?"

Rufus was one tough cookie.

"Do you know where she is?" Michelle attempted her hand.

"Yeah."

"Great," Dean nodded, "Could you tell us where we could find her?"

"No."

"Course not," Dean mumbled to himself before clearing his throat, "Ah, look Rufus, man…"

The door suddenly opened, cutting Dean off, to reveal Rufus, a black man about 50 years old, looking very annoyed at Dean, "Look, let me point something out to you. You are knocking at _my_ door, so don't 'look man' me, I'm_ not_ your man."

Dean looked down, as humble as Michelle had ever seen him speaking to another man besides Bobby, "Sorry sir."

"Alright, I'm gonna tell you a little story, see once upon a time, Bobby called me, asked me to call him if I got a whiff of this Bela Talbot. I got a whiff, I called. The end."

"If you could just tell us where she is, that'd be great," Michelle smiled a bit.

Rufus looked at her a moment, "Michelle Davidson and Dean Winchester, right?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, drawing Rufus's attention.

"Dean, do I look like I'm here to _help_ you?" Rufus nearly growled.

"I'm gonna say no," he frowned.

"Then get the hell of my property."

Dean glanced at Michelle, who nodded, "Alright, hey, hey, fair enough. I got one more question for you though. See, we got this ah, this bottle of scotch, and uh..." he gestured at Michelle, who pulled the scotch out of her bag, "...is it considered good?

Rufus looked from the scotch to Dean to Michelle, the latter was standing with an eyebrow raised. Moments later a smile broke out on Rufus's face as he stepped back, inviting them into the house, "Well, bottoms up!"

Dean grinned as Rufus led them to a table and began pouring the scotch. Rufus looked up at Michelle, who shook her head, before shrugging and pouring himself a drink, "Mmm…" he grinned, clinking glasses with Dean and swallowing it whole, "You know, I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff. Nectar of the gods, I'm telling you."

"Yeah, it's a nice change you know," Dean agreed, "Most of my whiskey comes from a plastic jug," he glanced over at Michelle and smirked, "But Mickey here wouldn't know about that, she don't drink."

Michelle just elbowed him in the ribs for the nickname, earning a chuckle from Rufus. She shook her head at Dean and turned to Rufus, "So, Bela was here because…"

"She wanted to buy a couple of things," Rufus shrugged, "Which is gonna take me some time to round up."

"Where is she now?" Dean leaned forward.

"Kid, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You got three weeks left. Why you wasting your time chasing after that skinny, stuck-up, English girl?"

Dean laughed, though Michelle could tell it was strained, "How'd you know about that?"

"Because I know things," Rufus replied, sending a meaningful glance at Michelle before turning back to Dean, who hadn't seemed to notice the exchange, "I know a lot of things about a lot of people."

"Is that so?" Michelle asked, leaning back in her seat, not at all worried about what Rufus might or might not know about her, given his little glance.

"I know ain't no pea-shooter gonna save him."

"What makes you so sure?" Dean frowned.

"'Cause that's the job kid. Even if you managed to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us, there ain't no happy endin'. We all got it comin'."

"Well, ain't you a bucket of sunshine?" Dean tried to smirk.

"I'm what you've got to look forward to if you survive. Which you won't."

It was silent a moment before Michelle spoke, "So, Bela?" she was not about to let Dean give up hope.

"Hotel Canaan," Rufus shook his head, "Room 39. But watch your back."

"I think we can handle Bela," Dean stood up, getting ready to leave.

"Oh, don't be so sure about that. There are things that you don't know about her."

"Oh, and you do?" Dean lifted an eyebrow before speaking a bit sarcastically, "Right, because you _know_ things."

"Yep."

"And let me guess, you lift her fingerprint?"

"Yep."

"And that got you jack?"

"Yep."

Michelle sighed, "She probably burned them off years ago."

"So you're right where we are," Dean remarked to Rufus.

"Nope," the man smirked, "You do her ear?"

"I'm sorry?" Michelle scrunched her face at the odd question.

"You do her ear?"

"Hey man, I'll try anything once, but I don't know, that sounds uncomfortable," Dean replied, Michelle just rolled her eyes, sure that _wasn't_ what Rufus was implying.

"Ears are as unique to humans as fingerprints."

"No kidding."

"Course that don't fly in the courts over here, but in England?" Rufus's smirk grew, "They're all over it. A friend of a friend of a friend faxed me ten pages of confidential files within a day. All I had to send him was one clean shot off the security camera."

"Right," Dean drawled, "One clean shot…of her _ear_."

Rufus stood up and pulled out a file from his desk, dropping it in front of the duo. Dean eyed the folder for a moment before glancing at Michelle. She sighed, leaning over to pick it up, trust Dean to shirk as much research as possible.

"The so-called Bela Talbot," Rufus confirmed when Michelle glanced up. She shook her head, eyes narrowing as she read before turning to Dean, a serious expression on her face.

~8~

Michelle looked up from her position, crouched on the floor, checking Bela's things, when she heard the hotel room door open. She had only a moment to see Bela walk in before she was pinned to the now shut door by Dean.

"Where's the Colt?" Dean demanded.

"Dean…" Bela began, not seeming to have noticed Michelle.

"No extra words."

"It's long gone," she smirked, "Across the world by now."

"You're lying."

"I'll call the buyer," Bela moved to get her phone, "Speak Farsi?"

"Kami," Michelle replied, cocking her gun and giving Dean time to pull Bela's own gun out of her coat, "Khoshet miad?"

"Where the hell…" Bela gasped, shocked by Michelle's 'sudden' appearance.

Dean pocketed Bela's gun and used his own to flick on the lights. Seeing Michelle had her gun trained on Bela, Dean slowly began to back away from her, "Don't move," he ordered the woman.

"I told you," Bela rolled her eyes, "I _don't_ have it."

Dean began rifling through the drawers Michelle hadn't gotten to yet, "Oh yeah, I'm definitely gonna take _your _word for it."

Bela glanced between Michelle and Dean and was about to make a break for the door, when a gunshot rang out. Dean looked up to see a bullet lodged in the wood of the door, inches from where Bela's hand had frozen, reaching for the doorknob.

"He said, don't move," Michelle glared at Bela, motioning with her gun for the woman to get back.

Bela lifted her hands and slowly moved back to where she was standing. She could only watch, breathing heavily from almost being shot, as Dean grabbed her suitcase from under her bed and started looking through it.

"It's gone," she tried again, "Get on a plane if you must. Track down the buyer. You might catch up to him…eventually."

Dean slammed his fist on the suitcase, realizing it really _was_ gone before getting up and pointing his gun at her. Michelle glanced over to see him looking very, _very_ angry.

"Are you going to kill me?" Bela glared at him before looking at Michelle.

"Oh yeah," Dean replied.

"You're not the cold-blooded type."

"You mean like you?" Michelle's eyes narrowed at the woman as she got up and moved closer, "I couldn't imagine killing my parents."

"I don't know what you're talking…"

"Yes, you do," Dean cut in, "You were what, 14? Your folks died in some shady car accident, police suspected a slashed brake line, but it was all too crispy to tell. Cut to little Bela. I'm sorry, Abbey. Inheriting millions."

"How did you even…"

"Doesn't matter."

Michelle scoffed, "Daddy _was_ a bastard, wasn't he?"

Bela's eyes narrowed at the girl before answering sarcastically, "They were lovely people and I killed them. And I got rich. I can't be bothered to give a damn," she turned to glare at Dean, "Just like I don't care what happens to you."

Dean ran forward and pinned her to the door. Michelle glanced at them before kneeling down to examine a twig that fell from above the doorway, her gun still trained on Bela.

"You make me sick," Dean nearly spat at her.

"Likewise," Bela replied.

Dean stood back, re-aiming his gun at her, ready to shoot, much like Michelle was. Bela closed her eyes, waiting for the blast. But when none came, she peeked open her eyes to see Dean lowering his gun.

Michelle glanced over at him, "You want me to do it?"

Dean looked over at her, startled that she would ask that. But instead of seeing Michelle the Hunter, he could clearly see it was Michelle the Soldier, trained by a soldier. She had a hard, cold look in her eye as she kept her gaze and gun trained on Bela.

"You wouldn't…" Bela tried, swallowing hard.

"I _would_," Michelle countered, completely serious, "Like I said, you don't know shit about _me_. You don't know what I was trained to do," she looked over at Dean, "Just say the word."

Dean glanced at Bela, as if he were _seriously_ considering it, before shaking his head, "She's not worth it."

Michelle waited a moment, nodding, before lowering her gun slightly, but not uncocking it.

Dean reached out and pushed Bela away from the door and held it open for Michelle to head out first, following after.

"You ok?" Dean asked as they moved to hide their guns, walking down the hall.

She nodded tensely, "What do you make of this?" she held up the twig from before.

"Devil's Shoestring?" Dean asked, looking at the twig before whistling, realizing what it was and why Bela had it, "Damn."

Michelle nodded again, still as stone-faced as before.

Feeling uncomfortable with how closed off and stoic she was being, Dean tried to lighten the mood, "So…you speak Farsi?" he asked, grinning.

A moment later, a small smile made its way onto her face, "I know enough of a lot of languages."

His smirk grew, "So what'd you say?"

She laughed a bit, her soldier exterior melting away, "She asked if we spoke it so I said a little, then I asked her if she liked it."

Dean just laughed and pressed the button for the elevator.

~8~

"Dean?" Sam's voice called out in the Impala, Dean had put him on speakerphone so Michelle could hear him.

"Yeah," Dean answered.

"Me too," Michelle called.

She could hear Sam give a little relieved laugh, "You two ok?"

"Of course, you know me," Michelle smiled.

"I also know Dean," Sam remarked, earning a laugh from Michelle and a defensive 'Hey!' from Dean, "Did you get the Colt?"

"No," Michelle replied solemnly.

"So does that mean that Bela is, uh…"

"No, no, she deserves to die a dozen times over but I couldn't do it," Dean answered, glancing at Michelle, who just looked down.

"Dean…" Sam called, drawing their attention back.

"I'm really screwed Sammy," Dean sighed.

"No, you're not," Michelle argued.

"Bela was a goose chase," Dean shot back, "The Colt's gone. And this time, I'm_ really_ screwed."

"Maybe not," Sam called out again, "Dean, I found Benton's cabin."

"You ok?" Michelle asked at the same time that Dean said, "Was he there?"

Sam laughed at that, "Yes to both."

"Did you kill him?" Dean continued.

There was a moment of silence, "No."

"What do you mean, 'no?'"

"Dean, please, just listen for a second. I found his lab book and it has the formula."

"What, the live-forever formula?" Dean rolled his eyes even though Sam couldn't see him.

"Yeah."

"Great, let me guess," Dean scoffed, "I…I gotta drink blood out of a baby's skull?"

"No, that's the thing, it's _not_ black magic!" Sam said, getting excited, "There's…there's no blood sacrifice or anything. It's just _science_ Dean. Very, _very_ extremely _weird_ science, but…"

"Wait, wait, wait, what...what are you saying? You think…"

"Dean, I think it may be _doable_. I mean, I know we've hit a lot of walls, but I…I mean, I think this formula…I think it might be it. This could save you."

"Sam…" Michelle began sadly, but Dean cut her off.

"Ok, so this formula…"

"Wait, well, look…look, we're…we're not in the clear yet, there are still things that I don't get…"

Sam was abruptly cut off and they could hear muffled yelling through the phone as he struggled with whoever was with him. They heard a thump as the cell phone hit the floor and then nothing but static.

"Sam!" Michelle called.

"Sammy?" Dean tried, when the phone suddenly cut off, Dean threw his down, "Shit!" he shouted, flooring it.

~8~

Dean had been about to drive straight to the forest when Michelle had ordered him to return to the motel. He'd been about to argue with her when she pointed out that Sam said he found the doctor's cabin. She doubted whoever took Sam was looking for the map and was almost positive Sam had clearly marked which cabin it was.

Seeing the sense in that, Dean made an illegal u-turn in the middle of traffic, nearly gave Michelle a heart attack, and hightailed it to the motel. He barely put the car in park before he was out of the seat and running towards the room. Michelle had only _just_ finished getting her breath back and restarting her heart when he was back, thrusting the map into her hand, and driving off once again.

She called out various directions till they pulled up in front of the only cabin circled in black. Dean ran to the trunk, picking up a gun or two while Michelle grabbed her gun from her bag and a shotgun before heading into the cabin.

Dean kicked the door in, immediately walking through. Michelle grabbed Dean's arm, seeing her knife on the floor. She picked it up, noticing a bottle of chloroform next to Sam's gun. She glanced at her knife, then the bottle, her eyes widening with an idea before she looked up at Dean, who nodded, following her line of thought and took out his own knife, dipping it in the bottle. It was then that they heard Sam's muffled screams from the basement. They ran for it, bursting in just as the doctor was about to plunge some sort of scooper into Sam's eye. There were a few gunshots as Dean shot the doctor in his chest while Michelle shot at the hand holding the scooper.

The doctor dropped the instrument to see them standing there, guns pointed at him, "Shoot all you want," he smirked at them.

Dean and Michelle glanced at each other before Dean nodded. He fired two more shots as the doctor walked towards them, distracting the doctor enough for Michelle to run off to where Sam was being held down and cut the ropes that bound him. The doctor shoved Dean away, throwing him on top of a glass lidded cabinet, shattering it. He reached down and grabbed Dean just as the man thrust a knife into the doctor's chest.

"A knife?" the doctor laughed, "What part of _immortality_ do you _not_ understand? Pity about the heart though. It was a brand new one."

"Good," Dean grunted, "Should be pumping nice and strong, sending this stuff throughout you whole body," he smirked, holding up a chloroform bottle, "See, I picked up your little bottle upstairs and dipped the knife in it."

The doctor groaned and swayed for only a moment, before he collapsed on the floor. Dean sighed in relief, looking up to see Michelle had finished freeing Sam and was helping him up.

~8~

"Oh, hiya, Doc," Dean called as the doctor slowly woke up to find himself strapped onto his own operating table with Sam and Michelle standing in the background, "Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey."

"Please..." the doctor groaned.

"Please _what_?" Dean demanded, narrowing his eyes in anger, "You've been killing poor bastards for over 150 years and _now_ you've got a request? Shut up."

"You don't understand, I can _help_ you. I know what you need."

"Might have to cut him up into little bits," Dean called back to the others, "You know this immortality thing is a bitch."

"I can read the formula for you. You know, immortality, forever young, never die."

"Dean!" Sam called, getting his brother's attention.

"Sam," he turned to look at Sam, who was nodding over towards the side. Dean sighed and stepped over to his brother's side with Michelle, "What?"

"I mean, we're talking Hell in three weeks or needing a new pancreas in, like, half a century," Sam began.

"Yeah, well you can't exactly get those at a Kwik-E-Mart," Dean rolled his eyes.

"It's not perfect, but it buys us more time to think of something. We just need _time_ Dean. I mean please, just…just _think _about it."

Dean seemed to struggle internally with his thoughts on the situation and his brother's pleading. He looked torn, knowing what was _right_ but being so close to being _safe_. He glanced up at Michelle for some reason, she looked at him with a small frown on her face and shook her head minutely.

Dean took a breath, "No."

"Dean, don't you want to _live_?" Sam asked, exasperated.

"What you're asking _isn't_ living," Michelle said quietly, placing a hand on Sam's arm.

"Look, this is simple," Dean began.

"Simple?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"To me it is, ok?" Dean snapped, "Black or white, human or not human," he turned and walked back to the doctor, "You see what the doc is...he's a freaking _monster_. I can't do it. I would rather go to Hell," he poured some chloroform on a cloth as the doctor watched.

"You don't understand, I can_ help_ you!" the doctor begged.

Dean ignored him as he placed the cloth over the doctor's nose, watching as he struggled. He turned to look at his brother, "Now, I'm gonna take care of him. You can either help me or not. It's up to you."

Sam looked at Michelle, who could only offer him a small smile. He half-shrugged at his brother just as the doc passed out.

~8~

Michelle carefully placed the doctor's alchemy book on top of the old refrigerator the brothers had chained and placed in a grave. She stepped on top of it as Sam held out a hand to pull her up.

"No, no!" they could faintly hear the doctor shout from inside, "Don't be stupid. I can help you. No!"

"Enjoy forever in there doc," Dean called down.

"I can _save_ you!" the doctor tried once more, "Let me out. Let me out. Let me out! No. I can save you! No, no, don't. Don't!" his cries fell on deaf ears as the trio began to shovel dirt into the grave, "No!" the shouts grew fainter, "Let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out! NO!"

When the last bit of dirt had been poured onto the grave, they stood back and wiped their hands off.

"Interesting punishment," Dean commented, glancing at Michelle, "Much better than my 'tear him to bits' scenario."

"It's usually a punishment reserved for vampires," she remarked, handing them a cloth to wipe the rest of the dirt off with, "When it lives forever, make sure it can't do anything but live."

~8~

The trio was sitting in the Impala, Dean driving while Sam sat in the passenger's seat, Michelle in the back. As soon as they'd finished burying the doctor, Dean had ordered them to pack and move out, explaining once they were in the car that he'd felt Bela pull out the motel room receipt he'd had there before, likely she was coming after them or someone else was. He didn't want to stick around to find out who though. He pulled out his phone and called their former motel room.

"Hiya Bela," Dean smirked when someone answered, "Here's a…here's a fun fact that you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket when you swiped that motel receipt."

Sam glanced back at Michelle, who was staring at Dean intently, listening to the one-sided conversation. They'd learned a lot from just hearing Dean talk to her. Apparently Bela had made a deal ten years ago to off her parents and her time had run out, _today_. She'd been using the Devil's Shoestring to keep the hellhounds away until she could complete her new contract and off the brothers, and Michelle, which was a shocking addition. Another shocking detail was that Bela _knew_ about Dean's deal, the demon who held her contract also held Dean's.

Even more interesting, the demon holding the contract was a_ she_. Not only any she, it was _Lilith_.

"…see you in Hell," Dean said, snapping the phone shut on Bela.

He looked at his brother who was staring at him, a determined look on his face, now that they knew the demon, they had three weeks to find her.

"Um…" Michelle said softly, earning a glance from the brothers, "Hate to say it, I really do, but…I told you so."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean rolled his eyes, "It's a female demon that holds the contract."

"And if it's Lilith," Sam added, "We have something to look for. We have to find her."

A/N: Oh boy...only one chapter left of Season 3...poor Dean...what will happen?

I really wanted to add that quality of Michelle, where she says that she really _would_ kill Bela if Dean asked her to. Because she was right, Bela (and the Winchesters to an extent) don't _really_ know anything about her. They don't know what she's capable of or what she would do if the situation called for it. Her dad was a _soldier_, he understood war and battles, he taught her to do what had to be done. Killing Bela might not have been it, but just the fact that she was willing is a shock to Dean. This'll actually come up again, Michelle the Soldier, not much, but we _will_ see her at times.


	14. No Rest for the Wicked

No Rest for the Wicked

Dean jolted up in bed, breathing heavily, seemingly from a terrible nightmare. He blinked a few times, looking down at the book he'd fallen asleep to, a page open to hellhounds.

"You ok?" Michelle asked, sitting at a table with a book and her journal open, sipping some tea.

"Uh…yeah," he nodded, pushing himself to sit up.

Michelle didn't look like she believed him, but before she could say anything Sam walked in, "Dig up anything good?"

Dean closed the book and shook his head, not able to look his brother in the eye, "No," he cleared his throat, "Nothing good."

"Well, Bobby has."

"Finally!" Michelle smiled.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, not as enthusiastically as they would have expected, he still seemed a bit out of sorts.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "A way to find Lilith."

"Oh. With just uh…" Dean looked at his watch, "Thirty hours to go," he smiled a bit, "Hey, why don't we just make a TJ-run, yeah? You know…some senoritas, cervezas uh, we could...what's Spanish for 'donkey show?'"

"Concurso trabajo," Michelle replied, but then frowned, "I think…Spanish was never my forte."

Sam sniggered, "So if we do save you...let's never do that."

"Agreed," Michelle nodded.

"Yeah..." Dean trailed, looking down at the book as Sam sat next to him.

Seeing the state Dean was in, Michelle got up and moved to sit across from him as well.

"Hey, Dean," Sam sighed, "Look, we're cutting it close, I know. But we're gonna get this done. I don't care what it takes Dean. You're _not_ gonna go to Hell. I'm not gonna let you."

"_We're_ not going to let you," Michelle corrected, reaching out to place a hand on Dean's arm, "I swear. Everything's gonna be ok."

Dean looked at the two of them, taking everything they were saying in. He glanced at Sam, his expression looking a bit scared for a moment before shaking himself out of it.

Michelle frowned, realizing the hallucinations were setting in.

"Yeah, ok," Dean nodded.

~8~

Bobby placed an old tracking device over a map of the states. It was an odd looking device, standing on three wooden legs with a crystal ball placed on top of it. The ball had a flat metal piece going around it with symbols on it. Hanging from the ball was a pendulum device with a sharp edge to it to pinpoint a specific place.

"So you need a name, that's the whole kit and caboodle," Bobby explained, glancing up at the boys, "With the right name, right ritual, ain't nothing you can't suss out."

"Like the town Lilith's in?" Sam ventured.

"Kid, when I get done, we'll know the _street_," Bobby smirked. He looked over at Michelle for a moment, sending her the smallest nod which she returned, before starting the ritual. He started to swing the pendulum and chant in Latin while the trio watched.

The pendulum continued to swing until it suddenly stopped.

"New Harmony, Indiana," Michelle called out, leaning over the map, having been ready at Bobby's nod to get the place name.

"And we have a winner," Bobby smiled.

"Alright," Sam pushed the pendulum away and looked at Bobby, "Let's go."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on," Dean cut in, "Let's all shut up there, Tex."

"What's the problem?" Sam turned to look at his brother. Michelle twisted a bit to look as well. Ever since they'd left the motel to visit Bobby, Sam hadn't let go of her hand. It seemed like, with all that was dropping down around them, he sought her comfort more than ever.

"What's the problem?" Dean stared at him, "Come on, where do I begin? I mean, first of all, we don't even know if Lilith holds my deal. We're going off of _Bela's_ intel? Now when that bitch _breathes_, the air comes out crooked. Ok. Second, even if we_ could _get to Lilith, we have no way to gank her. And third, isn't this the same Lilith that wants your giant head on a pike? Should I continue?"

"Ain't you just bringing down the room," Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, it's a gift."

"I'm sorry, so then what are we supposed to do Dean?" Sam asked.

"Just 'cause I gotta die doesn't mean _you_ have to, ok? Either we go in smart or we don't go in at all."

"Ok fine," Sam let go of Michelle's hand and turned to walk off, "If that's the case, I have the answer."

"You do?" Dean eyed him.

"Yeah. A surefire way to confirm it's Lilith _and_ a way to get us a bona fide demon-killing ginsu."

"Sam, no," Michelle called after him.

"We're so passed arguing," Sam stopped and turned to face them, "Dean, I am summoning Ruby."

"The hell you are!" Dean challenged, "We have enough problems as it is."

"Exactly," Sam walked up to him, "And we've got no time and no choice either."

"Come on man, she is the Miss Universe of lying skanks, ok," Dean argued, "She told you that she could save me, huh…_lie_. She seems to know everything about Lilith but forgot to mention, oh right…Lilith owns my soul!"

"Ok, fine," Sam admitted, "She's a liar. She's still got that knife."

"Dean…" Michelle began, trying to diffuse the situation.

"For all we know, she _works_ for Lilith," Dean cut in.

Michelle fell silent for a moment, lost in thought while the argument continued.

"Then give me another option, Dean," Sam begged, "I mean, tell me what else."

"Sam's right," Bobby interrupted.

"NO! DAMN IT!" Dean shouted, shaking Michelle out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Bobby and Sam looking surprised at Dean's outburst. Dean took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down, "Just no. We are not gonna make the same mistakes all over again," Sam looked a bit shocked, "You guys wanna save me, find something else."

Sam and Bobby watched him as he walked back to the table he'd been sitting at before, sitting down with a contemplative look on his face.

Michelle sighed, "I'll go talk to him."

Sam nodded gratefully at her while Bobby grabbed his jacket.

"Where are you going Bobby?" Sam asked.

"I guess to..." he threw his arms out, "Find something else."

Sam looked out into space, thinking to himself.

~8~

Michelle walked out of the basement, a bag of weapons in her hand. She smiled encouragingly at Sam as she passed him going into the basement, before setting the weapons down near Dean.

"You _do_ know we'll stop this, right?" she asked after a moment.

"Right," he replied sarcastically.

"Dean, I promised you I'd save you, remember?" she reached out and placed her hand over his furiously cleaning a gun, "I promised I wouldn't let you become that demon, didn't I?" he hesitated a moment before nodding, "Have I _ever _broken a promise I made to you or Sam yet? And I'm not just talking about remembering to get you pie."

He shook his head, "But how are you gonna swing this one?"

"I'll think of something," he gave her a look, "I _will_."

It was silent for a few more minutes before Dean placed the gun down and sighed, standing up, "How much you wanna bet Sam's got Ruby down in the basement right now?"

Michelle shook her head, standing up as well, "That boy never listens does he?"

Dean smirked at her and moved towards the basement, "Better go save his ass from doing something stupid."

Michelle laughed and followed him down where they could indeed hear Ruby talking to Sam.

"…hate the way Dean looks at you sometimes, like you're some kind of sideshow freak. But suck it up because we've got a lot of ground to cover, and we've gotta do it fast. But we _can_ do it. Look. Call me a bitch, hate me all you want, but I have never lied to you Sam. Not _ever_. And I'm telling you. You...can save your brother, and I can show you how."

"So that's you, huh?" Dean asked, walking down the stairs, not looking very happy, neither did Michelle, "Our slutty little Yoda."

"Dean," Ruby turned around and glared at him, "Charming as ever."

He walked over towards Sam, Michelle staying by the bottom of the stairs, her eye on the blonde demon, "Aw, I knew you'd show up," Dean remarked, "Because I knew Sam wouldn't listen," Sam looked at Dean for a moment but looked away quickly, almost ashamed, "But you're not gonna teach him anything, you understand me? Over my dead body."

"Oh, well, you're right about that," Ruby smirked.

"What you _are_ gonna do is give me that knife. And then you can just go crawl back into whatever slop you came from and never bother me or my brother again. Are we clear?"

"Your brother is carrying a bomb inside of him and we'd be stupid not to use it."

"Dean, look, just hold on for one…" Sam tried, but Dean just turned on him.

"Sam!" he shouted at his brother, "_Don't_. Come on man, what, are you blind? Can't you see that this is a trick?"

"That's not true," Ruby defended.

"She wants you to give in to this whole demonic psychic whatever, ok. I mean hell, she probably _wants_ you to become her little anti-Christ Super Star."

"I want Lilith dead," Ruby argued, "That's all."

"Why?" Michelle called, eyeing the demon warily.

"I've told him why!" Ruby shouted, glaring at Dean.

"Oh, right, yeah," he said mockingly, "Because you were human once and you liked kittens and long walks on the beach."

"You know, I am _so sick_ of proving myself to you. You wanna save yourself, this is how you dumb, spineless dick."

Dean just looked at her and turned, as though to leave, but suddenly swung back and punched her in the face, looking beyond pissed. Sam jumped back, surprised by his brother's actions. Ruby took a few steps back from the force of it. She looked up at him, wiping some blood from her lip before hitting him twice in retaliation.

"Ruby, hey!" Sam shouted.

Ruby stepped around Dean and hit him in the back, causing him to double over. She kneed him in the face, sending him flying into a beam and sliding to the floor. She turned around, only to be hit in the face by Michelle. She swung at Ruby once more but the woman ducked and went to knee Michelle in the stomach, but she blocked by pushing Ruby's leg out of the way.

Sam could only watch in horror, and slight interest, as the two women continued to fight, one trying to basically kill his brother and the other defending him.

Ruby threw a few more punches but was only able to land one across Michelle's jaw. The woman let out no sign that the punch had hurt as she simply kicked Ruby in the face, sending the woman to the floor. She tried to get up but Michelle kicked her in the stomach forcing her to roll away. Ruby rolled onto her feet and ran at Michelle who, in a move similar to taking out the crocotta, let out a forceful kick at the demon's chest, sending her sprawling back into the corner of the basement.

Ruby gasped for breath from the force of the kick to see Michelle smiling as she helped Dean to his feet, "The hell are you grinning at?"

"Missing something?" she asked, holding Ruby's knife in front of her for the demon to see.

"Awesome," Dean remarked, nodding in approval.

"I'll kill you, you bitch," Ruby shouted, more pissed that the other woman had managed, not only to hold her ground against her, but also lift the knife off her. She rushed forward, about to attack, but only made it a foot before she ran into an invisible wall. She tried to push past it, but nothing happened. She looked around at the floor and the ceiling trying to see if there was a Devil's Trap but couldn't find one.

Michelle spit out a wad of blood from her mouth and walked over to Bobby's work bench, picking up a black light. She walked over to the corner, smirking at Ruby, before turning on the light to reveal a Devil's Trap painted on the floor in 'invisible' paint.

Sam pulled his hand away from his mouth, standing up, complete surprised by that.

Ruby looked back up at Michelle, pissed, but Michelle smiled and looked back at her, "You didn't think Dean was the _only_ one who thought you'd come did you?" she put the knife away and started to walk back towards the stairs, the boys following, stunned, behind her.

"Much better than my idea," Dean remarked, pointing to a spot on the ceiling where he'd painted a Devil's Trap of his own.

"Wait!" Ruby called, "You're just gonna leave me here?"

Dean hesitated, looking at Sam who had stopped, "Let's go Sam."

Sam walked over to his brother and girlfriend and took a deep breath before walking up the stairs.

"Oh, oh you…so you're just too stupid to live, is that it?" Ruby shouted after Dean, "Then fine! You _deserve_ Hell! I wish I could be there, Dean. I wish I could smell the flesh sizzle off your bones! I WISH I COULD BE THERE TO HEAR YOU SCREAM!"

"And I wish you'd shut your pie-hole, but we don't always get what we want!" Dean remarked as they walked up the stairs and shut the door behind them.

~8~

Michelle had gone out to tell Bobby that Ruby was trapped in his basement and how it had all played out, with the successful acquisition of the knife, and was returning to the house to check on the boys. She passed by the living room where Sam and Dean were working on the weapons and could hear them having, what sounded like, a meaningful conversation. Not wanting to interrupt, she quietly stood outside the door and listened in.

"…a surefire way then maybe we should just talk about it," she heard Sam speak.

"Sam," Dean interrupted, "We are _not_ gonna make the same mistake all over again."

"You said that but what does it even mean?"

"Don't you see a pattern here? Dad's deal, my deal, now _this_? I mean every time one of us is…is…is up the creek, the other is _begging_ to sell their soul. That's all this is, man. Ruby's just jerking your chain down the road. You know what it's paved with and you know where it's going," she could hear Dean sit down and pick up a weapon.

"Dean," Sam began, sitting down, "What do you think is gonna happen? This is _me_, I can_ handle_ it," Dean stopped fiddling with the gun, "And if it'll save you..."

"Why even risk it?" Dean cut in.

"Because you're my brother," Sam said brokenly, "Because you did the same thing for me."

Dean scoffed, "I know...and look how _that_ turned out. All I'm saying…" she frowned as she heard Dean get a bit choked up, "Sammy, all I'm saying is that you're my weak spot. You are. And I'm yours and…"

"You don't mean that, we're…we're family," Sam replied, getting choked up as well.

"It's not just that. I know I'm not your only weak spot."

"What do you mean?"

Dean sighed, "What would you do for Michelle?"

"Anything," Sam answered without hesitation.

"Me too," Dean agreed, "I'd sell my soul all over again for you, probably Michelle too. And those evil sons of bitches know it. I mean, what we'll do for each other, you know, how far we'll go? They're using it against us."

"So what?" she could practically hear Sam shake his head, "We just stop looking out for each other? We stop…we stop loving each other?"

"No, we stop being martyrs, man. We…we…we stop spreading it for these demons. We take this knife and we go after Lilith our way. The way _dad_ taught us to. And if we go down, then uh...then we go down swinging. What do you think?"

There was silence for a moment, "They're using our weaknesses against us," Sam said slowly.

"Yeah…" Dean replied, knowing his brother was going somewhere with this.

"What wouldn't we do for Michelle or…or Bobby?"

"Nothing."

"When we go after Lilith…she'll use them against us, won't she?"

"Probably," Dean admitted.

"Maybe…maybe we shouldn't take them with us," Sam finished.

Michelle's eyes widened at that bit of information. She understood where Sam was coming from, but there was no way in Heaven or Hell she or Bobby would stand for that.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "If she gets me, that's bad enough, if she got Michelle, I can't even imagine what you'd do. Yeah, they stay here."

"Oh hell no," Michelle whispered to herself before storming, quietly, out of the house and back to Bobby.

~8~

Sam and Dean were in the Impala, about to leave, when Dean tried to start her up. Unfortunately it didn't work. They both looked at each other worriedly, when suddenly Bobby appeared outside of Dean's window while Michelle appeared in Sam's, startling the hell out of the brothers.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Michelle glared at them.

Dean looked at her, seeing her holding his distributor cap before getting out of the car with Sam and walking up to Bobby and Michelle, neither of which looked very happy.

"We got the knife," Dean muttered angrily at them.

"And you intend to use it without me," Bobby finished.

"_Us_," Michelle corrected.

"Us," Bobby nodded, agreeing. "Do I look like a ditch-able prom-date to you?"

"No Bobby," Sam replied, stepping over to them, "Of course not."

"Do _I_?" Michelle raised an eyebrow at him, just _daring_ him to say the wrong thing.

"This is about me and Sam," Dean cut in, "Ok? This isn't your fight."

Bobby walked up to Dean, furious at his words, "The hell it isn't!" Dean looked surprised by that, "Family don't end with blood, boy. Besides, you need me," he glanced at Michelle, "And you sure as hell are gonna need her."

"Bobby…" Dean tried to argue.

"You're playing wounded. Tell me, how many hallucinations have you had so far?"

Sam looked at Dean, confused by this, while Michelle watched him expectantly. Dean glanced over at his brother and Michelle before looking back at Bobby, "How'd you know?"

"How do you _think_ I know?" he retorted, nodding towards Michelle, "Do you_ know_ how much research that girl's been doing since she started travelling with you?"

"What?" Sam looked over at her.

"You didn't _really_ think I was just reading random books while your brother's soul was on the line did you?" she retorted.

Suddenly it made sense to the brothers, all the old looking books she'd buried her nose in over the months, all the notes she made in her own journal which it never occurred to them to read. She'd probably done twice, three times, as much research as they had about the deal and what would happen.

"The hallucinations are what happens when you've got hellhounds after you," she continued, seeing them realizing her work. She then frowned at Dean, "And you're _really bad_ at hiding things."

Dean looked mildly impressed and probably would have looked more so if he wasn't hours away from death. He looked at Sam before looking down at the ground.

Michelle nodded and went to put the distributor cap back in the car.

"I'll follow," Bobby said with finality. He walked away from the boys to his own car, calling back over to them when Dean moved, "Don't be stopping to pee every ten minutes either."

Dean stopped in his tracks and just shook his head at the man, turning back to the now-working Impala to see Michelle already in the backseat.

~8~

"Hey Dean?" Sam said as they drove towards Indiana.

"Yeah?" Dean glanced over at him.

"You know if this doesn't uh...this doesn't go the way we want, I want you to know…" Sam began only to be cut off by his brother.

"No. No, no, no, no."

"No what?" Sam looked confused.

Dean looked over at him, "No, you're not gonna bust out the misty goodbye speech, ok? And if this _is_ my last day on Earth, I do_ not_ want it to be socially awkward," he turned back to the road, smirking, "You know what I _do_ want?" he reached over and turned the radio on, Bon Jovi's 'Wanted Dead or Alive' blasting out of the speakers.

"Bon Jovi?" Michelle nearly laughed at this, it was _so_ unlike Dean.

"Bon Jovi rocks," Dean said, before pausing, "On occasion."

He looked at Michelle over his shoulder to underline the statement, she just shook her head at him. He laughed and turned back to the road, beginning to sing along, "'And I walk these streets, A loaded six-string on my back, I play for keeps,'" he nudged Sam, talking to him, "Come on!" before singing again, "''Cause I might not make it back. Been everywhere...'"

"'Oh yeah,'" Sam began singing, earning a smile from Dean.

"'I'm standing tall,'" Michelle joined in.

Sam laughed and the three continued to sing, "'I've seen a million faces, and I rock the boat, 'cause I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride. I'm wanted.'"

Dean looked over at Sam, who was really getting into it, "'WANTED!'" Sam shouted.

Dean looked back at the road while Sam smiled and sang, "'Dead or alive!'"

"'Dead or ALIVE,'" Sam repeated.

Michelle frowned as Dean slowly began to lose the will to sing, his smile fading. Sam continued to sing, laugh, and smile, not noticing Dean was not. Michelle leaned forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at her over his shoulder again and saw her give him a small smile. He couldn't help but smile back as Sam continued to sing by himself, "'Dead or alive, dead or alive, dead or alive!'"

Just as the song finished, a siren was heard behind them. The boys tensed as Dean looked into his rearview mirror. The flashing lights of a police car started to reflect inside the car.

"We getting pulled over?" Sam asked, unsure of whether his brother was going to pull over or race the cop.

Dean looked in his side-view mirror, "I've got a busted taillight."

"Yes, because it's not like we're in a hurry or anything," Michelle muttered.

Dean slowly pulled the Impala off to the side of the road, the police car coming up behind them. Dean rolled down the window as Sam got out the license and registration. Michelle looked out the back window as the policeman approached, tensing when she saw a demon walking closer.

"Problem officer?" Dean had asked the man before she could warn them.

She watched the policeman closely as he flashed his flashlight at them, "License and registration, please," Dean handed out the needed papers while the officer took them and looked through them, "Do you realize you have a taillight out, Mr. Hagard?"

Dean looked up and Michelle watched closely as his face fell and hardened, his muscles tensing as though he knew it was a demon as well. The officer tilted his head and turned the light at him, "Yes…yes sir," Dean replied, "Uh…you know I've been meaning to…take care of that…" he turned to face the road once more, glancing back at the officer, "As a matter of fact..."

Before anyone could react, Dean slammed his door open so fast it hit the officer in the stomach, knocking him over. Dean was out of the car and on the officer in no time.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, getting out of the car while Michelle got out on Dean's side. She ran around the car, grabbing Sam to stop him while Dean punched the officer three times in the face and stabbed him with Ruby's knife.

"He's a demon!" Michelle shouted at Sam, trying to stop him from struggling out of her hold.

He stopped immediately, watching as the officer's eyes began to flash black, a sure sign of a demon. Dean pulled the knife out and let the officer fall down dead. He stood over him, leaning on the Impala, breathing heavily from the fight. Sam slowly pulled away from Michelle and moved next to his brother as Bobby pulled up and joined them.

"What the hell happened?" Bobby demanded, looking at the dead body.

"Dean just killed a demon," Sam replied, looking at his brother, "How'd you know?"

"I just knew," Dean answered, looking from the demon to Sam, worried, "I could see its face. Its real face under that one," he let out a breath and turned to Michelle, "How do you do it?"

She smiled and shrugged, "Years and years of practice," she glanced down at the demon, nudging it with her foot, "And believe me, some demons are actually uglier than this one."

"Great," Dean grumbled before sighing, "Come on, better get this covered up."

They all moved, getting the car stationed over by the trees and placing branches over it to hide it from plain sight.

"So what, now you're seeing demons?" Sam asked after a few minutes.

"I've seen all kinds of things lately but...nothing like this," Dean admitted.

"Actually it's not all that crazy," Michelle commented solemnly.

"How's it not that crazy?" Dean stared at her.

"You're piercing the veil, Dean. You're glimpsing the other side."

"A little less new age-y please," he rolled his eyes.

"You're almost Hell's bitch," Bobby clarified, "So, you can see Hell's other bitches."

"Thank you," Dean half-glared.

"Well, actually it could come in pretty handy," Sam commented.

"You'll probably be able to see the hellhounds now," Michelle added, not making him feel better in the least, "It'll give you a chance to avoid them."

"Oh, well, I'm glad my doomed soul is good for something," Dean remarked.

"Damn right it is," Bobby nodded, "Lilith's probably got demons stashed all over town. We can't let them sound the alarm. She knows we're here, we're dead before we're started. And if we have to split up, two people who can see demons is a hell of a lot better than one."

"Well, this is a terrific plan," Dean ground out, "I'm excited to be a part of it. Can we go, please?" he began to walk away and back towards the Impala, leaving the police car as well hidden as they could get it.

~8~

Across the street from the house Lilith was residing in was an abandoned house up for sale, the perfect stakeout place for the small group of Hunters.

"It's the little girl," Dean stated, "Her face is awful."

"At least you can take comfort in knowing it _doesn't _get uglier than _that_," Michelle commented as she and Dean stood near the window with Bobby and Sam, looking through binoculars at the small family Lilith was holding hostage.

"Alright then, let's go," Sam lowered his binoculars, "We're wasting time."

He walked past Bobby and Dean, towards the door when Michelle grabbed him and stopped him, "Wait!" she called to him.

"For what?" he turned to face her, "For it to kill the rest of them?"

"Yeah, and us too if we're not careful," Dean agreed with Michelle, nodding Sam over towards the window, "Look. See the real go-getter mailman on the clock at 9pm?" Sam held up the binoculars again and looked at the mailman, "And Mr. Rogers over there…"

"Demons?" Bobby asked as they spotted an old man sitting in a chair outside his home, smoking a pipe and reading a book.

"Yeah," Michelle nodded.

"Ok, fine," Sam thought quickly, "We…we…we…we…we ninja pass those guys, sneak in."

"Then what?" Dean gave him a look, "Give a 'Columbian necktie' to a ten year old girl, come on!"

"Look, Dean, I know it's awful…" Sam began.

"You think?" he asked sarcastically.

"This isn't _just_ about saving you, Dean. This is about saving _everybody_."

"She's gotta be stopped son," Bobby said grimly.

Dean looked contemplative for a moment, before turning to look out the window, "Oh, damn it."

"If you guys are interested?" Michelle called out, looking down from the window at the streets, "I might have a plan."

~8~

The plan was simple enough, lure the mailman away from the truck, finish him off, then sneak up behind 'Mr. Rogers' and knock him off before heading towards Lilith. And just in case they sounded the alarm, Bobby was working on turning the whole town's water supply into holy water and setting the sprinklers off. All they had to do was get to the front porch before the water went on.

Dean decided to be the one to lure the demon mailman, making sure he got spotted walking around, before running behind the abandoned house where Sam was waiting with Ruby's knife. When the demon impaled himself on the knife, Sam struggled a bit so Michelle placed her hand over the demon's mouth so his death wouldn't alert the whole town. Sam pulled the knife out, killing the demon before letting him drop to the ground.

They then made their way over to 'Mr. Rogers'' house, Michelle motioning for the boys to stay in the backyard while she snuck into the house with Ruby's knife, something about how they couldn't tiptoe to save their lives. She had gone in through the back of the house and made quick work of the demon. She dragged it into the house, making sure there was no blood outside, before joining the boys. She had just handed Sam the knife back when Dean took off.

Sam and Michelle only stood there a moment before taking off after him.

They saw Ruby suddenly appear in front of Dean and shove him into a fence he'd run up to, "I'd like my knife back, please. Or your neck snaps like a chicken bone."

Sam's eyes darkened at the threat to his brother and he stepped up behind Ruby, holding the knife to her throat, "He doesn't have it. Take it easy."

Ruby slowly backed away from Dean, releasing him from the fence. Sam slowly backed away as well and stood next to his brother and Michelle.

"How the hell did you get out?" Michelle glared at her.

Ruby just smirked, "What you don't know about me could fill a book."

Dean suddenly grimaced, stepping back, his eyes wider, "Whoa."

"What?" Ruby turned to him.

Dean just tried to look away, not wanting to look directly at her. He glanced at her and then to Michelle, who was watching the woman intently, "Nothing. I just…I couldn't see you before, but you're one _ugly _broad," he swallowed hard and turned to Michelle, "How do you stand it?"

Michelle just shook her head, now was not the time to talk about how desensitized she was to seeing demons.

"Sam, give me the knife before you hurt yourself," Ruby ignored Dean's comment and turned to Sam.

"You'll get it when this is over," Sam replied.

"It's already over. I gave you a way to save Dean, you shot me down. Now it's too late. He's dead. And I'm not gonna let you die too."

"Try and stop us, and I'll kill you," Michelle stepped up in front of the boys, "Bitch."

"Hit me with your best shot," Ruby smirked.

Dean glanced back at the direction he'd run from, at the hellhounds he could see approaching, to a new, more threatening sight, and turned back to them, "Guys, guys! Hey. Have your little catfight later."

They followed his gaze to see two people, a father and son, standing outside on their porch, looking at the group. They looked around to see more people stepping out onto their porches and opening windows to look at them.

"Oh shit," Michelle said under her breath as she glanced at Dean to see that he too could see their black eyes.

"So much for the element of surprise," Dean shook his head.

"Go!" Sam shouted, "Run!"

They opened the fence and ran straight towards Lilith's house as the neighbors ran from theirs in chase. Sam reached the house first, starting to pick the lock while Ruby and Dean came up behind him. Michelle pulled out a shotgun and stopped in between the porch and the sidewalk, aiming at the oncoming army.

"What the hell is taking Bobby?" Dean fidgeted, watching as Michelle stood as the last line of defense between the demons and them, "Michelle!"

"Don't worry about me," she glanced back at them before turning to the demons, her eyes narrowing as they slowed to a stop before the lawn, "Just get the door open!"

"I'm trying!" Sam shouted back, having issues with the lock.

The demons hesitated, stopping just before the lawn, their eyes on Michelle before one shot out and ran towards her. But just as the possessed woman reached the lawn the sprinklers turned on and the demon began to flail, screaming as the water burned her. Another demon tried to get by but got caught in the water as well.

Dean smirked, watching this happen, as scores of demons were held at bay by a little water.

"Got it!" Sam shouted, getting the door open.

Ruby walked in, Sam holding the door open.

"Mickey!" Dean called, "Let's go!"

Michelle glanced behind her at the door then back at the demons, before turning and running into the house behind Dean, Sam shutting the door behind them.

Sam turned around to see a very decomposed body lying on the floor. He could see Ruby, Michelle, and Dean looking at it.

Dean's face grew more serious, "You think Lilith knows we're here?"

"Probably," Ruby answered.

They looked at each other before moving out cautiously, looking into the rooms, trying to find Lilith. Sam entered the rooms first, holding Ruby's knife before him, followed by Ruby, then Dean, and Michelle behind them.

Michelle whipped around when she heard a creaking to see a man running towards her. She quickly grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back, and held her hand over his mouth as the group turned around at the scuffle.

Dean walked forward toward the man, his finger on his lips in a shushing manner, "We're here to help," Dean whispered to the man, "Ok?"

"I'm gonna move my hand," Michelle continued, "And when I do, we're going to be quiet, ok?" the man nodded and Michelle slowly removed her hand, allowing the man to step away from her.

"Sir, where is your daughter?" Sam asked.

"It's not...it's not her anymore," the man nearly cried.

"Where is she?" Michelle repeated.

"Upstairs. In her bedroom."

Dean nodded, "Ok, ok, ok. Listen to me. I want you to go downstairs to the basement. Put a line of salt at the door behind you. Do you understand me?"

"Not without my wife."

"Yes, without your wife."

"No!" the man almost shouted.

Just before he could alert Lilith to their presence, Dean punched him, hard, knocking him out. He picked up the man and slung him over his shoulder. He gave the others a look and walked off towards the basement.

"Come on," Michelle said, "We need to find Lilith."

Sam nodded and he, Ruby, and Michelle walked up the stairs, backs against the walls, trying to be as stealthy as possible. Sam nodded at Michelle, who nodded in return and walked off to look into one room, while he checked another. Ruby walked to a third and opened it slowly. She stepped back, getting Sam's attention before stepping away, not wanting to risk exposing herself to Lilith. Sam motioned over at Michelle, who followed him toward Lilith's room, watching as he slipped in, before making her way quietly over to the door.

She peeked in to see Sam walking slowly up to a bed surrounded in thin drapes. Just as she was about to enter the room, Ruby grabbed her arm, trying to keep her back. She looked back at the demon, glaring at her before yanking her arm away and turning back to the room.

"Do it!" the woman lying on the bed next to Lilith, possessing a little blonde girl, was whispering to Sam, sounding more than scared.

Michelle frowned as she squinted, trying to see more clearly through the curtains surrounding the canopied bed. She stepped into the room more just as Sam raised the knife.

"Do it!" the woman whispered again.

Michelle managed to get behind Sam, leaning over to see around him at Lilith, who was starting to wake. Her eyes widened in shock as she quickly strode over to him.

"Do it!" the mother hissed, "Do it!"

She reached out and quickly grabbed Sam's hand before he could strike, "It's not her!" she shouted to Sam, pulling him away from the bed.

The mother quickly scooped the girl in her arms, realizing it was her daughter again.

"It's not in the girl anymore?" Dean asked, entering the room.

"Mommy!" the girl sobbed, scared.

"Mommy's here," the woman rocked her back and forth as the boys helped her up and quickly left the room, "Mommy's here. It's ok."

They headed down the stairs, the woman and Dean first, "Alright, no matter what you hear," Dean instructed her, leading her to the basement, "You, your husband, and your daughter stay in the basement."

"Everything'll be fine," Michelle told the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder as she turned to see Sam and Ruby walk off into the living room. She nodded at Dean to follow and he turned to go.

"But what about…" the woman began.

"I'm sorry ma'am, we don't have time to explain," Michelle interrupted, looking at her watch and then in the direction Dean had gone, "Please, just do as we asked."

The woman nodded and carried her daughter down to the basement where her husband was waiting.

Michelle turned to walk towards the living room, just as the clock struck midnight. Her eyes widened in fear as she bolted into the room, slamming the doors shut behind her to see Dean trying to give Sam a little smile and stay calm, but it wasn't working.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Ruby said, "I wouldn't wish this upon my worst enemy."

There was a howl of hellhounds as she and Dean turned to look in that direction.

"Hellhound," Dean commented grimly.

"Where?" Sam looked around.

"There," Dean pointed before running out of the room, followed by the others, the hellhound quick behind them. They ran into another room and slammed the doors closed, locking them.

Dean took out a bag and began making dust lines along the door with the powder in the bag, Michelle holding the door shut with Sam while Ruby stood behind them. The pounding suddenly stopped and they stood back, Dean rushing for the windows to pour the dust as well.

"Give me the knife, maybe I can fight it off," Ruby said suddenly.

Michelle looked over at Ruby, her eyes now wider than they had ever been at seeing that the demon now possessing Ruby wasn't Ruby anymore, but Lilith.

"What?" Sam asked, confused.

"Come on!" she insisted, "That dust won't last forever."

"No!" Michelle shouted as Sam reached for the knife, "It's not her!"

Dean turned around at her shout to see that it was, indeed, the _ugliest_ demon of them all, "Don't!"

"You wanna die?" Ruby glared at the boys.

"Sam, that's not Ruby. It's not Ruby!"

"It's Lilith," Michelle confirmed.

Ruby/Lilith suddenly flung out her arm and sent Michelle and Sam into the wall, pinning them there, Sam dropping the knife from the slam. She flung out her other arm to pin Dean onto a table. Dean grunted and tried to hold up his head so he could see Lilith.

"How long you been in her?" Dean asked.

Lilith's expression became very childlike, "Not long," she shrugged.

"Ever since the hellhounds stopped," Michelle answered. Lilith was beyond powerful, she didn't doubt the demon would be able to sneak into a host without the typical swarm of black demon smoke if she wanted.

Lilith looked towards her, shocked that she knew, turning her eyes white, "Very clever."

"And where's Ruby?" Sam demanded.

Lilith smiled as her eyes turned back to normal, "She was a very bad girl, so I sent her far, _far _away," she tilted her head, crunching her neck as she turned to stare at Dean.

"You know, I should have seen it before...but you all look alike to me," Dean remarked.

A moment later she snapped her head at Sam, ignoring Dean, and walking slowly towards him, "Hello Sam. I've wanted to meet you for a very long time," she grabbed a hold of his chin and forced him to face her before she gave him a kiss, his lips actually sizzling as she did so.

Michelle began struggling more, trying to move any part of her body, but was unable to do so.

"Your lips are soft," Lilith commented as Sam jerked his head to the side, away from her.

"Right, so you have me," he glared at her, "Let my brother go."

"Silly goose," Lilith shook her head, "You wanna bargain, you have to have something that I want. You don't."

"Oh don't we?" Michelle asked, drawing her attention.

The woman turned to give her the onceover, "No, you don't."

Michelle was about to open her mouth to speak once again when Dean called over, "So, is this your big plan, huh? Drag me to Hell. Kill Sam. Kill Michelle. And then what? Become queen bitch?"

"I don't have to answer to puppy chow," Lilith remarked, twisting her head to look at Dean, groaning in pain on the table, trying to hold himself up against her restraint. She turned away from Sam to walk towards the door, her eyes still on Dean. She smiled sadistically as she reached for the door handle, "Sick 'em boys."

"No!" Michelle shouted as Lilith opened the door, blowing the dust away and allowing the hellhounds in.

They ran to Dean and pounced on him, grabbing him by the legs and pulling him off the table while he screamed. They started to rip him apart as Sam and Michelle could only watch, helpless, scared, and panicked.

"Stop!" Sam begged.

Lilith just looked at Sam and Michelle and then down to Dean, struggling on the floor, his legs already slashed and claw marks appearing on his chest.

"Stop it!" Sam shouted.

Lilith just watched, her smile widening as the hounds slashed Dean's back and shoulder.

"No!" he yelled, the two watching in horror as Dean was flipped over and slashed over his chest, blood gushing out.

"No!" Michelle repeated, "Stop it!"

"STOP IT!" Sam screamed, watching as Dean fought with his last breath until the blood poured out of him, the man's screaming stopping.

"No!" they shouted, seeing this.

"Yes," Lilith smiled at them. She held out her hand and a light erupted from it, building up as Sam turned and closed his eyes. Michelle glared right at the woman, watching as her light retracted, her eyes slowly returning from white to normal, she looked confused and a bit shocked at what was happening to her.

Lilith looked down to see that Sam and Michelle had slid to the floor. Sam was huddled in a corner next to a cabinet, holding his hands in front of him, Michelle kneeling at his side, hugging him, shielding him a bit from her, still glaring.

Sam opened his eyes as he felt Michelle moving to grab his hands and lift him off the floor. He looked over at Lilith, who was looking at them, afraid. She held out her hand again, "Back!" she called, jerking her hand towards them, but nothing happened. Michelle squeezed Sam's hand, as he took a breath and began walking towards the demon.

"I said, back!" she repeated, trying to use her powers once again.

Sam just glared at her, kneeling down to pick up Ruby's knife. Lilith was looking terrified now, but the duo looked determined and hateful.

"I don't think so," Sam ground out, pulling back his hand and moving to stab her, when she suddenly threw herself out of Ruby's body. The black smoke rose as she screamed and flew out of the ventilation on the ceiling.

Ruby's body collapsed, but Sam and Michelle couldn't care less as they spotted Dean's body, lying motionless, his eyes opened.

He was dead.

Sam looked down, breathing heavily, one step away from hyperventilating. Michelle reached over, circling him in her arms, resting her head on his shoulder for a moment before he walked away, towards Dean. Michelle watched, heartbroken, as Sam fell to the floor, picking up Dean in his arms, tears pouring down his face.

"No..." he shook his head in disbelief, rocking his brother back and forth, "No…Dean…"

Michelle knelt next to him, as she did before, hugging him to her as he cradled his brother's body, unable to do anything but cry and hold him in her arms.

"Dean…" Sam whimpered.

His brother was gone.

To be continued...in...Purgatory!

A/N: NOOO! DEAN! WHY?!

Poor Dean, poor Sam. What will happen now? Check back soon, my next story in this triology, Purgatory, will be up tomorrow, but it'll really get started on Saturday.


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